The gatekeeper and I

I had hoped that
Watching my footprints
I would stop going in circles
The gate master fiddled
And asked for my passport
I begged the gatekeeper
For cider and cake
In the old tradition
Of wasailing
He told me to sing
But I couldn’t think of a song
Until I walked in more circles
Then I sang him this
Keeping time with the clapping
Of my hand on my thigh
Then he laughed in delight
And he opened the gate
We ate cake and cider
He said, ‘get on with you,
It’s gotten too late’
The door slammed behind me
I don’t know where I am
But I can see my footprints
And I have my song on my tongue.

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