SUMMER: LOVE A FAIR

A summer of discontent,

suffering the slings
and arrows of torrential

downpours, and foggy

misty colored mornings,

lacking of brilliant sunshine

and carefree days of

all your reminiscences.

Another solstice come

and nearly gone with

nothing to show but your

pale pigment and saturated yard.

The days long gone, or of

summers past; one day to

bring the universe in alignment.

In your rambling search

for the one moment that

takes you home, you realize

your smile just brightened the room.

And you have returned.

The Erie County Fair opens today.

And you recall it all.

The animals and their "fragrances"

The fruits and vegetables

of some dedicated 4-H-er's success.

The games of chance more

giving than a lot of choices

you've made by yourself of late.

A grand Midway of rides and

thrills that you no longer

have the mind (or stomach)

to encounter anymore.

And the people.

The melting pot of humanity

clutching cotton candy

and twelve foot tall

plush dust collectors.

Melt in your mouth chicken barbecue

feeding the masses and

making you long for a moist towelette.

The exhibits entice you,

just as they did when

you were twelve and snot-nosed;

short pants and dirty knees,

and a curiosity befitting your age.

You remember it all, through

those eyes, and you crave for

that one more day to be twelve,

to sully your knees, and sicken your

stomach on an abundance of fudge

and the odor of rancorous cow pies.

Calliope music is your soundtrack.

Shouts and screams are your chorus.

You love these days, the last vestiges

of another summer gone amiss.

Youthful exuberance drips from

you like a cascade; washing you

in memories not soon relinquished,

and giving you that sense

that if you can get yourself to

another Fair season, it will be

a very good year. For this day,

your father's "Sonny-boy" has returned.

Walt