Rusted trailers file in, carrying pop-up roller coasters and tilt-a-whirls. A tall man, face splashed with paint, trips in oversized shoes. His drawn lips smile, but teeth do not show. A ferris wheel spins in the distance, time measured in each rotation, the carnival's only clock. Perched on a saddle, a small tot rides a stallion, tangling her curled fingers in its mane, cotton candy stained palms shaking the reins. The steed chained to a central post, muzzled in silence, frozen like his carousel brothers.
This was written for a location prompt in my poetry workshop class fall semester.