Fair Day
| On the day the coaster jumped track, |
| the sun was a gaudy pinwheel |
| cooking the air to cotton candy, flaming the dust |
| the animals raised, burn-fading paint |
| off the metal in slim orange curlicues who |
| jostled as the snap-together carts rocketed |
| round curves, freckled arms throwing out |
| giggles and yells, throwing them |
| to the sky in lifts and drops of such blind joy |
| that the metal couldn’t help but |
| add its own sharp voice, |
| so enlivened it broke free, |
| a human ribbon arcing across |
| the sun, against the sun, |
| and down. |
Copyright 2005, Samuel Minier