The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want…he leadeth me beside the still waters.
-from Psalm 23
They came from nearby Titusville,
from as far away as Tipton Creek.
They stood in the rain, they stood in the sun.
I could’ve gone on The Sno-Ball, they said.
The Round-up, or the pirate ride.
I could’ve gone on one of the big rides, they said,
twice, for what this cost.
Curiosity;
it got the best of me, they said.
They talked about their hometown teams,
the price of gasoline and meat.
They leaned on the ropes, they craned their necks.
Music began and a green curtain parted.
Lola squealed. She peeked through her fingers.
What is it, she said.
Ezra Jenkins gave a snort.
Danged if I know what it is.
A girl with round glasses tilted her head.
It’s pretty, though. In a strange sort of way.
They stood in the rain, they stood in the heat,
they talked about the price of meat
and no one knew just what it was.
A woman in a purple dress said,
tell ‘em what you told me, son.
Andrew turned red; he looked at the floor
and Margaret cried,
it's the work of the devil, Hallelujah O Lord...
Reminds me of something, Vince Mackie sighed.
Something I saw in the war.
It was shiny and smooth and silver-lined.
Clear as the morning after a crime.
Strange, and yet familiar, too,
like footsteps by the door at night.
They came from near and far away,
they leaned on the ropes and craned their necks;
they stood and they stared,
what is it, they wondered.
The music stopped; the green curtain closed.
A mirror, said Andrew, under his breath.