Thursday, October 29, 2009

Circus Siren


Read Write Poem gave us a picture (go check it out) of rides in motion at a fair or carnival or circus and this is what I came up with. See what other folks had to say.

Circus Siren

The circus came to town just once,
bringing tents and rides,
and more excitement than one
girl could contain.

We went, of course, everyone went.
The grass near the school was transformed.
I ate pink cotton candy off a paper stick and
I remember a large snake in the side show.

Half-way up the tiered seats in the tent
we watched horses, and acrobats,
and clowns and dogs, and
I ate salty peanuts from a paper bag.
The ringmaster in his colorful suit
announce more acrobats
that spun in the air and walked
impossibly thin ropes above our heads
and I couldn't hardly believe it
was finally over.

Then we headed to the rides,
large metal arms spun in all directions,
blinking their siren lights at us and
teasing us closer. I was tall enough
and boarded with so much excitement
I must have been vibrating.

The giant beast slowly woke from hibernation
and crept in a circle, then it whirled
faster and faster, until
all at once the inner section started spinning
too and my stomach spun in a different
direction and my hands desperately
gripped the bar with white knuckles
and my eyes wouldn't focus and my family
asked the attendant to stop the ride,
and he didn't and I was whirling and
green and unconnected.
And the ride finally slowed and stopped.

I tripped a bit as my feet reacquainted
themselves with an unmoving ground,
and my stomach kept spinning and I
threw up into a trash barrel.

I lost the cotton candy and my excitement,
and prayed no one I knew had noticed.
The tinny music sounded sad
and the bright lights no longer called to me.