a_strange_treat

Happiness

Sticky-fingered, cotton-candied consumption
giggles gaily beneath the smiling sunlight
reflecting comfortably off the pink hood
of the carousel.

Come one; come all
is the happy siren call.

Scents of sugar and roasting treats
form delicious clouds over the heads
of giddy hand-shaking clowns.

The many come running,
man woman and child
eager to touch taste and see,
eyes swollen with spectacle
and entertainments,
soft precious feet skipping lightly
over the field scattered
with unnoticed and moldering
bones.