Fairgrounds

Fairgrounds

Bob Komives

 
Let's go: 
—Please, Mother, take me to see those people set up the State Fair;
move horses, plant flowers, raise tents.—

She responds as kindly as she can:
(tables full of vegetables, jars, and lids; canner-cooker steaming on the stove)
“ Dear son, I can’t take you to the fairgrounds. I have all this work in the kitchen. I'll take you with your sisters—next week when the fair opens. Please play here close to home. “

Out to the yard:
Impatient, I return and plead; go out, return, and plead again.

A Compromise:
“ No, Son, but I'll pack you two fine picnics. You and Buddy can walk two blocks to the park. “

Through Buddy's yard to Minnehaha:
Across Pascal Street and Albert Street to bible-school park.

We play:
Imagining forts and caves where others see only giant clusters of lilac bushes.

Let's go:
—I know the way. Minnehaha, right on Snelling, over the railroad, past the gravel pit. I went by the fairgrounds with my Dad when we went fishing. He told me all he saw there when he was a kid.—

The big gate is wide open:
Sheep! horses! cows! rabbits! chickens! Dancing, practicing tractors! Smells of manure and wood shavings! Busy men with leather faces!

Let's go home:
—There's a gate.—

Not the same one ...
—Excuse me, mister, which way to Snelling?—

A stop at the gravel pit to play army, throw rocks:
—It's getting dark. I'm hungry. Let's climb out and run home before … Up there, isn't that your mother? Dad's car? Mom! Running this way!—

She calls me her naughty five-year-old:
She says she should spank me
but cries and gives me a hug.
I want to say I'm sorry
but can only tell her about all the fun.
“ Let's go home now to supper! “

Bob Komives :: Fort Collins © 2016 :: Fairgrounds :: 1602