A village fair has just begun my thoughts –
Colorful windmills purple as they dance,
Boundless fields eager for shine to dry
From morning’s mist to evening’s sweat
Trees stand tall, cattle too see end of day,
Children forget their homes, blindfolded
At stretching play, searching in the twilight
The day that had promised a winner
Thoughtful lamps glow in every home,
Their oil in clay, like diamond in the shore,
Is fortune only to the one who gets,
And each home’s contend with its light.
At night, ghosts sing into the winds,
Close the children to their lids,
Hide the moon from its tales,
And ask forgetful dogs, when is time to sleep?