At the close of the fair
waste paper scuttled
over the ground
Carousel horses poised
for one last merry gallop
and children searching
for dropped coins

The gypsy put away
her bright shawls
Her silver mirror
and crystal ball
Hope and hopelessness
Passion and loneliness
no longer touch her

She wandered the beach
searching for lost treasure
like a princess on a desert island
Gathered twists of driftwood
idly picking up spiralling shells
longing for first light
to slay the dragon of darkness