The Looff Carousel

by Connor Zimmerman on January 16, 2020


by Gabriela Baron ’20

I remember Mom hoisting me onto a porcelain pony:
her flowery perfume swaddled me.
I was strapped in safely;
Mom blurred as my pony pranced.

Little girl holding onto a horse on a carousel
Photo courtesy of

Her flowery perfume wafted through the air
as the pony touched the sky and kissed the ground.
Mom blurred when my pony galloped faster.
The whimsical music whirled.

The pony touched the sky and kissed the ground—
then it halted. I feared falling.
The whimsical music whirled
and I held onto my liberty, clutching the reins.

When the pony halted, I faced my fear of falling.
I unbuckled my security; a new rider was waiting.
I held onto my liberty, waving my belt like a flag.
I slid off the pony and hopped on a stallion.

The new rider waited
to be strapped in safely.
I slid off that pony! And hopped on this stallion!
I remembered Mom hoisting me onto that porcelain pony