Leaving the Fair
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Imagine that you’re at a raucous fair, The kind you went to sixty years ago— The beckoning booths, just pennies for a throw, Loud barkers, louder hawkers everywhere, Such promises of pleasure in the air . . . A plunging carousel, a puppet show, A tent for movies, Marilyn Monroe Fixing the tumult with her glaucous stare.
And now you walk away from all its noise, The too bright colors busy in your mind But less so since you’re leaving them behind As if you knew they’re someone else’s toys. That’s what old age is like . . . the whole shebang An echo of a song a stranger sang. [End Page 40]
DICK DAVIS is a poet and translator. He has published numerous volumes of original poetry and of verse translations from medieval Persian, most recently, Faces of Love: Hafez and the Poets of Shiraz (2012).
