where the writers are
Our Little Carnival

 

The thick night air of this small country town,

 

Usually dark and quiet, has been disturbed.

 

 

 

This place where usually skeeters fly and toadfrogs flop,

 

Tonight is alight and alive, dancing with a cacophony!

 

 

 

Aromas of corndogs and candied apples waft along,

 

Carnies plead with children to reach into daddies pockets.

 

 

 

A crowd of expectations and dreams come here this eve,

 

Some will leave empty, and some will go home fulfilled…

 

 

 

Among this throng is one little group, a family indeed,

 

Not recognized as such, but feeling the truth as it is.

 

 

 

A boy and a girl, grown now, but still believing in dreams,

 

Drawn irresistibly, irrevocably, together in this humid night.

 

 

 

Bringing their rag-tag pasts to this simulacra of celebration,

 

Joy and anticipation fills their hearts.  Yes!  Even after all.

 

 

 

Slapped from the table so many times, gun-shy now,

 

For fault or for rumor, the result was always the same.

 

 

 

But tonight, in this heat, under these garish lights,

 

These two hearts agree, silently, that this is what is…

 

 

 

Children run wildly, laughter spills over and smiles win,

 

But these two grown children enjoy happiness like no other.

 

 

 

Stealing moments for now, hidden right out in the open,

 

Soon, this dream becomes reality, and this family will be Real.