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We used to go to carnival
On the edge of town some
Nights in the summer. One
Year they had a ferris wheel
And we would walk under it
And stare up at the lights
Arcing away and then back,
And feel like falling into
Space and John would grab
Us and we'd all wrestle
In the scrub. Were always
Clowns there, some of them
Butch old muscley ones I
Liked and others like limpy
Ghosts, all staring and you
Would cling on John's arm.
We'd win prizes at stalls,
One year a pineapple that
John cut with his penknife
And we ate in the darkness
Under the old willows by
Where the carnies slept in
The daytime. It was sweet,
Yellow. As if we had run away.
No use to say, but I sure
Do wish you were still here.