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Subject: Caravan Author: Lori S. Maynard [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] Date Posted: 16:58:05 10/10/01 Wed Author Host/IP: spider-mtc-tk072.proxy.aol.com/64.12.107.52 CARAVAN Pounding and shouts now season the air Midst the darkness and solitude, in another somewhere. Lights blinking out to infinity’s throes. Colors melting to the ground, yet nobody knows. Magnificent creatures brought down to their knees. Oil dripping and machinery crumbling ‘neath the trees. Near by, people sleep unbeknownst to this world. Fences pulling themselves together that had earlier unfurled. Hammering and excitement foretell eager departure Of the opening highways and impending raptures. Still, the world falls down to the dew-soaked ground. Caving in on itself with no mercy-seeking sound. A swing-less swing and a trackless train Sit vigil over this world in dead grass lanes. The Tilt-O-Whirls’ bones sit in the middle of the park Haunting the workers long past dark. Trucks coughing in their diesel breaths Come in to prepare the event for its death. It packs up quickly in rows so neat. Tired bodies awaiting sleep’s retreat. The horseless body of the Merry-go-Round Sits at the entrance of the County Fairground. Sweeps and canvas yet to be removed Beg to be put up, and carefully renewed. Yes, it’s time that this all must fade And be a memory of this town’s carnival days. Games, now dark, sit all in a row Waiting to be hitched and hauled down the road. Backup beeps and yawns now season the air Minutes away from not existing there. Trucks pull away with colorful streams. Was the carnival here, or was it all a dream? Lori S. Maynard May 28, 2001 Written in 8 minutes [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Replies:

Subject Author Date Re: Caravan Doug S 08:11:37 10/11/01 Thu Re: Caravan DIATOM 02:58:49 10/12/01 Fri