Saturday Poetry

Carnival Craze

ahead dots color hill tops afar dark
yellow, red, blue. and white bulbs
a slow drive rounding easy curves
chants of glee sounding the escape
voices expecting exciting an evening

sour the sweetness knocking gently
as windows rolled down feel a sniff
ahead now neon lights circle the sky
parked the station wagon in a field
smiles falling out the old rear door
pink fluffy sugar whipped on a stick

corn scented popping grandly new
sticky sounds of sneakers skipping
mirrors and teacups join a sway too
the hot dough shaped ears powdered
join parade in turn at ticket booths cut

prizes of royalty reach up drooling eye
wheels spinning higher recall butterflies
bops and pops abound in wild carousel
loose change dribbles clanging on down
gum, hats, glasses and feathers scatter
back to the old Buick we return, smiles

Treasure The Past

Dusty shoe box a child’s treasure chest
old letters and stamps things from the past
grandpa’s war medals a fragile pressed rose
yellowed faded report card and a piece of twine

a gold watch band some scrapings of melted wax
the whiff of a musty old cigar one metal button
three cuff links none a pair lock of thin hair
a page from an old bible psalm twenty three

grandmas silver thimble a little blue bottle
deck of cards from japan nineteen forty
a spool of black thread  pack of sewing needles
pledge of allegiance on an old folded card

small yellowed envelopes with nothing inside
a marble and several checker pieces all red
small white ribbon silk with a pin a buffalo nickle
Aunt Marie’s wedding band  a negative of her grave

S&H green stamps business card from a pharmacy
a string with nine pearls old bus pass and transfer
small shells and glass beads and a straight razor
more than a treasure box child holds the past

squinting through dripping panes

bent over the decades aging
floor beams sag listing to rear
oxidizing metal skyward shows
a blend of silvers and red hues
wrinkles cover the paint peeling
grey spots emerging dot it’s face
of tired weathered boards beneath
loosely grasping posts tendons
clinging to dry bones weakened
winged creatures skip from open
wounds at shadows lengthening
blackish wire landscaping unkempt
twists itself bushy eyebrows elderly
squinting through dripping panes
roams unsupervised climbing up
around an old creaking falling barn

A Stone Wall Fallen

thick green moss as mortar does
satisfies gaps in jumbled stones
jointly lines run on the walls old
farms and rolling hills traversed
through the fields old Connecticut
once meager and frugal changing
as the new aristocrats plundering
landscapes evaporating hastily
painters scramble a final sketch
caught to serve as a template
field-stones echoing hooves
that gallop off heard the blunt
sound heard of shifting rocks
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