Animal and wet earth cling to you,
wrapped over your shoulders
like that blanket your mother loves.
It makes the hot sugar and grill smoke floating in the sun
all the more inviting.

The chicken barn behind you releases a cacophony
of shuddering wings
and braying clucks.
Your friend’s Rhodes and Cochins ring in your mind
with the warmth of summertime laughter.
You can hear the performers
preparing for the after dark show,
an act of fire and acrobatics that will echo across the fairgrounds.

The woman in front of you hands you a stick
dripping with hot oil and summer freedom.
Freshly fried, it looks exactly like the corn dogs
in your father’s hand
but you know better.
You take a bite too quickly,
you know it’s still too hot to eat,
but the familiar burst of cheddar-mozzarella
soothes the burn.
It’s as gooey as the late evening sun,
thick and viscous,
and you’re glad the booth was moved back from the main throughway.
less foot traffic means maybe you can get another one
Before the sun sets.