The Wilderness Inside

wilderness inside

Arriving at the fair, this annual trek we
Take to the hills of central Connecticut
I marvel again at the size of the whole
Ordeal, the mounds of raw chicken
Cooking in even rows
The art projects
Sorted by medium
And age
Then hung or displayed
By unseen hands, the
Sampled apple pies the
Towering sunflowers
The tiny plates of
Cherry tomatoes,
And each tagged, each
Judged, examined,
Ribboned. Not to mention
The floral arrangements
Sculpted to a theme, in both
Adult and junior categories.
Did I mention they’ve
Added brewing this year
(Just beer, no kombucha yet!)
With multiple entries sealed in
Jars now flat for us to
Gaze upon?

That’s just the produce building and
The craft building. Still waiting are
The living breathing handiwork in the
Bunny house
Where you can take the
Hatchlings home;
And the petting zoo area with its
Precious handful of nuggets
For a quarter.
Beyond that the big barn
Where silent cowgirls crouch
On low chairs in the hay
Beside the beasts
Girls as mysterious to me as
The animals themselves.
The kids marvel at the bovine
Excrement and shout questions at
Teens. As for me I come to gape at
These precious exhibits, these
Endless wonderments, these human
Marvels, hoping to catch a
A glimpse of their pastureland:
The wilderness inside.

Today’s #napowrimo prompt: Write a poem in response to a photograph.