The Carnival

Walking now,
The images replay in my mind
And over the years I listen
to my steps rustle over
the drifting, falling leaves.
The ground, the October wind
reminds me of a clown’s grin.
Wanting to get warm in winter. In
Defiance, the cold telling me
To go home. Find shelter,
Even when I want
To keep running in puddles.
When rain skipped down chill bumps
On my arms.
As I got older, I knew
I had to go home. And now
I see his eyes dimmed
With the light from the sun, the cloud-laden
glance against me, yet embracing me.

*
Lights glow in the wind that blows
underneath the stars as I walk with
a little kid’s stride. Music
In the sound of little elves
laughing. Girls play
as they run to enter
the carnival. Lights dance
while I  anticipate
finally getting inside. His grin,
painted with checkerboard teeth, melts
beneath his clown makeup. He looks down at me
as he takes the money.
Even though I’m shrinking
in my dad’s arm.
But it wasn’t long
after, that I was on my dad’s shoulder—
asleep with an ice cream ring
around my mouth.
*
It wasn’t long before the clown’s smile fell
to the sound of my feet, my mind
chasing after the sights of go carts
and bumper cars, the smells and tastes
of cotton candy and candy apples.
The sound
of wonder rests in the whir
of the Ferris Wheel I finally rode
as a teenager, while sitting next to a girl.
I ran inside and I didn’t know
that I’d see a bearded lady, or a man-
sized snake. I didn’t know that I couldn’t
drink five slurpees, ride the pirate ship
and not throw up. Didn’t know that you shouldn’t
dig your fingernails into the person next to you
when you chose a ride that went too high. But I didn’t
care, I tried it every time, even though
I lost my best friend for two weeks. Nail prints
were embedded in his arms. And with the clown
guarding the gate behind me, I didn’t know
that I’d see a monkey sleep
on its back with its limbs
in the air, trying to climb a cage
it couldn’t escape. And I left
that night, didn’t understand
why a loving couple had scars on their hands,
yet they embraced each other
like they weren’t even there.
*
Older now, my kids run
just as I once did and I ask myself
if the clown ever had to
turn a kid down from entering the carnival.
If his emotions ever bit
at him. I wonder if he ever had to
watch a kid cry, even if he didn’t want to,
even if he had to say no to someone who didn’t
have enough money and it ate at him. If
he ever hurt
in such a way
that a shark tears
at flesh. I wonder sometimes
if behind his smile, tears swarm
and dissolve the mask beneath
his cheekbones. Worn with age,
I look at him standing there, standing alone.
And as we pass by, I hear myself
Telling the kids to say
thank you, but they don’t
hear me as they run inside. So I tell him myself. 
When we leave, I smile as one of my sons
tells me, he saw that clown
smile at me.