The Fair

The flags are waving brightly, hypnotizing the naive, they shimmer like carnival balloons. There are merry andrews waltzing, to the themes of marching bands, they’re camouflaged to blend in with the moon. The party’s getting started, so we better get in line - the wind is breathing something like a sigh. The smell of cotton candy drowns out the barkers script, and multicolored lights announce the mood. There’s rain off in the distance - you can feel on your skin - the children refuse to stay in line. Dogs are barking somewhere, and lanterns dance like birds - there’s nothing left to do but step in time, two, three, four. The tent is Chinese silk, as silver as a coin - acrobats take tickets with their lips. The sawdust smells like bacon, and the seats are way too small, but the crowd is pushing in because red rain is falling. Elephants turn like dancers, and trumpet to the night - the sound shakes the world like my alarm. Another ho-hum morning, soon the sky will tell a lie, - that lemon light has something to proclaim. My bags are packed for boredom, the trip will last all day, - there’s nothing left to do but step in time, two, three, four.