The cold in the air
reminds me of the country fair
the candied apple,
the hot burnt sausage sub
the smell of wet hay,
the warm touch of a cow’s side
the shriek of the roosters,
the squeal of the pigs,
Men with canes urging the oxen
to drag the sled farther
weight added as the stakes rise
kids running from ride to ride,
teens sneaking off
the races after twilight
the craft booths,
the giant pumpkin, squash,
the pies and paintings,
with sash and ribbon
pride of the makers
for all to see
September 16, 2007 16:01
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,640+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
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