Book of Scarborians I

The autumn wind brought

waves of fair enthusiasts

into Scarborough.

With each crash of the ocean

the North Sea tried to join in.

The fair began with

a ceremonial horn—

one Mary knew well.

She heard the loud and shrill song

invade her open window.

“Aren’t you going?”

her aunt Rose asked at breakfast.

“Not this year,” she said,

“that horn is a bad omen.”

Rose passed Mary the honey.

Mary burned her tongue

after taking the first sip.

She bluffed, “It tastes great!”

Rose sighed, “It was just a dream.”

Mary said, “I’m not so sure.”

R.L.P. Auriga

Syracuse, New York