BJZ Poems and Musings

We lived for 7 years in the small, rural community of Manchester Michigan in the 1990’s. One of the traditions as summer wound down was the Manchester Community Fair. Like the fairs in many rural communities it was a kaleidoscope of events, people, animals, rides, and exhibits. I loved to wander around the fair and observe all the spoils and pride of rural life. It was always a bittersweet experience – the warm beauty of summer transitioning to fall. I wrote this poem in 2001 and revised it slightly over the years. I present it now, 25 years later, as a set of scenes and images from that time.

Notes from the Manchester, Michigan Fair

I. Livestock

Panting in their paddocks,
the hot breaths of shorn lambs;
the sweet and fateful
smell of steers.
Prepubescent boys with German names
guide pigs around with little canes.
Haflinger ponies prance, sensing its time to pull.

II. Poultry

Crisp black rims on copper feathers –
the Golden Sebrights preen and strut.
A black Polish cock with a
shocking white, feathered top
flicks his head like Einstein
seizing on a new equation.
A Rhode Island Red scratches
her cage bottom, tilting her eye
toward a minute seed.

III. Exhibits

Old boots growing Semper vivarum;
family photos, nature photos;
children’s paintings of a purple and white iris;
common flowers arranged in special vases,
wilting in the heat,
even those with blue ribbons.
Raspberry jam and pickles,
wildflower honey, canned peaches,
old calendars, yarn.

IV. Fairgoers

An ancient man with a khaki cap,
denim pants and shirt,
alone, lost in thought
on the merry-go-round.
Teenagers fling about on wild-named rides –
(same ones that their parents tried);
staggering when they get off,
about to barf, they laugh.
A little bronze-skinned boy
shrieks with delight on the Giant Slide.

V. The Rain

First a few drops slow things down,
then the late afternoon shower comes
with serious intent; cotton T-shirts
plastered to skin;
people savor the coolness,
then begin to run under the tent,
where a raffle is held;
In the back some cloggers are
throbbing, in advance of the
six p.m. show.

Brian J. Zink 2001 Copyright rules apply