The whine
of a tiny mosquito
is remarkably amplified
as she spirals
down the emptied space
of a coffee mug
at my bedside table,
focusing my attention
in a joyous
sound art observation,

having me recall
the motorcycle
circling the confines
of the spherical steel bar cage
at a summer fair
in my early childhood;

the motorcyclist's head
staying put,
right in the center
of each revolution