Literal Fireworks as Seen from the Ferris Wheel

by Bill Barta

If you weren't allowed to be a child,
you'll remain a child forever.
Just as orphans are always orphans.
You wait for someone to take your hand
inspecting every face you see
for that look, that half-smile
the one that says
yes, you're mine.  
I'll take you home now.
But you don't want to remember
the home where you really live.
So, you'll always be lost
and the wrong person finds you.
You'll always be going home
but it’s always the wrong home.
Mother, I just met someone.
Yes, she’s a lot younger,  
but she's special, you see 
we went to an amusement park.
She locked her arm around mine
people stared but she didn't care.
She'd been lost too 
our stories were the same 
down to the last detail;
her mother’s a lot like you.
We'd known each other forever
by the end of the day.
We ate funnel cakes 
like people do
at Seaside Heights.
I'd been found after so long
and been brought safely home.
But those aren't my clothes
and that's not my room 
and that face she kisses
is not my face.