At the Fair 

After browsing around with the beating August sun,
walking into the shady building with the cool air from
the fans is a sudden lift. The hot skin seemed to sigh of
relief, as the eyes dotting around the particular exhibitions:
homemade cookies and cakes, many flavored popcorns,
exotic clothes, and the coats made of fur and tails.
The little shop was full of fluffy garments, quiet as the
dead wild things. I touched the fur jacket, soft and silent.
Let my eyes linger on the tails hung on a rack. They seemed
wagging a little like they used to do as a fox, racoon, or other
tails would do with their friends. Only now, they cannot 
do more. Hope they had a good life before. Hope they were
all ready to return to the bosom of Mother Earth, before the
hunters intervene. My eyes linger on them, wishing to get one
as a keepsake. I turned to leave; for some reason, 
I want the fur to remain at the shop with the owner. 

© Byung A. Fallgren