She Walks the Fair
She walks the fair,
a carousel’s brass music
tugging at her sleeve,
buys a daffodil
from a man with kind hands,
watches a child spin
until the world goes loose.
The scent of frying dough,
cinnamon and sugar,
the squeak of a wheel,
a stranger’s laugh
that sounds like her own.
She carries a paper cone
of warm almonds as
spring holds her gently,
and she lets it.
Some images created with Midjourney; all writing is authentically my own original work.©Misky 2006-2026.
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