Here in Minnesota, Labor Day weekend means one thing—the State Fair. It's a big deal here. I live in St. Paul, just a couple of miles from the fairgrounds, and the traffic alone tells me people are flocking to the Fair. On Facebook, my friends are listing, in gory detail, all of the foods they sample (chocolate-covered bacon and cajun-fried-pickles, anyone?). Here in the office, our resident foodies have regaled us with stories of their culinary expeditions. It's not just food: I've heard about the animals, the Crop Art, the midway...as Leslie Ball writes in her 2006 poem, the Fair is, indeed, a living thing, changing with each person who experiences it.
The Fair is a Living Thing
Just past six a.m.
Light starting to leak into the sky.
They predict rain.
We don't care.
Today is day one of our beloved State Fair.
(Read the rest of the poem here.)
Today's Poetry Friday is hosted at Crossover.
Enjoy your long weekend—the last weekend of summer. See you next week!
More soon--
Beth
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