By Braden Hofeling
The fairground hums here,
even with the power gone.
Energy rises
from the floor,
to the bleachers,
to the peanut-crunching crowd,
dancing light from the Ringmaster’s velvet top hat
rests on a trapdoor springboard.
Change flies from pockets,
landing in gloved, upturned hands-
cups waiting to be filled before spilling
a deluge of shimmering miracles,
washed down by the eager crowd.
Every non-believer is baptized
in the ethereal waters of suspended
disbelief, born again in carnival lights.
Something is born from the rich soil each night,
not unlike a beanstalk,
not unlike the vibrant green of
bursting hopes and dreams.
Not unlike a night light refusing to go out.
Braden Hofeling is an emerging poet located in Portland, Oregon. He has two self-published collections of poetry out and is hoping to publish his third book through an independent small press. His work has been featured in the Gival press ArLiJo issue 153 journal, Death Rattle’s Penrose Vol. 2, Prometheus Dreaming, Arc Prose magazine, and New Note poetry.
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