Glitter Magic

Glitter magic sparkles in the night;
lights to outshine the stars in heaven, themselves.
No choral angels' voices raised in song could ever match

these twinkling
candy-sweetened
skies.

I close my eyes and let hot-dogs guide me in
amid the din and racket of the thrills.
Giddy-giddy, busy-fizzy, children brush past my sleeves,
leaving cool soda splashes in their wake.
Voices jingle along with the tin-plated ping of the shot-can booth,
while Madame Zalotzski reveals hidden mysteries behind velvet.
All is false, all is fake, and yet there's nothing as real

as the shimmering,
winking,
fuzzy,
spun-golden memories

of the

fair

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