Crumbs Of Memories

Crumbs of memories sometimes hide
while others say “Good morning!”
no matter the time or circumstance.

I was seven the day
my father and I
ducked into the side show tent
where we saw the fire eater
and the fat lady
and the sword swallower
and some hideous twisted things
in formaldehyde filled glass containers.
But what I most remember is
the shapely young woman
with locks of satiny black hair
gently brushing her bare shoulders.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
Suddenly she removed her veil,
revealing a viking beard that
even the Norse gods might envy.
I was repulsed as she,
from the raised wooden platform,
looked down at me and smiled.
I could not return the favor
for I was spinning in a cyclone of confusion
marked by bewilderment and fear.
This was my first encounter with the others.

Just as I betrayed
that gentle woman’s smile
my body has betrayed me.
This was not the ending
I was looking for, but
it’s the ending I got.