photo of the Midway at the Fall Fair
by Lisa Duncan, Heart of Vancouver Island
I took my favorite poet to the fair.
There it was: the crowds,
the greasy small bags of deep-fried doughnuts,
the noise of the hurdy-gurdy,
the ferris wheel, circling,
like the Clock of Time,
mesmerizing and relentless,
and a bit queasy-making
in its descent.
I observed from a bemused distance:
the people screaming in ecstatic fear
on the Salt and Pepper,
the chubby toddlers in their strollers,
pushed by corpulent parents,
eating their way through the fair.
Sweet-eyed calves, soft rabbits,
and one old, tired, patient bull,
his horns honed and formidable,
stood about, confused at this strange
pasture, with its noise and smells.
The sky lowered itself down
to meet the horizon.
The edges of everything softened,
and there it was: that moment,
when I lifted off and saw
the entirety of the fair's tawdry beauty,
softened and blurred, and full of light.
"Sometimes I need only to stand
wherever I am,
to be blessed." *
*Mary Oliver, Evidence: Poems
for Ella's cool prompt at Real Toads: to combine our local fair with our favorite poet, in some way.