Garage sales are fun, and summer fetes even more so as the choices are
so many, and all out of doors. Second-hand books draw me every time, but I always wander through baking, white elephants, clothes, jewellery …
SUMMER FETE
voices cascade tent-roofs
while music trickles down posts 
and coins clink hand to hand
in harmonic orchestration
sandwiches, drinks, and hotdogs
juggle from grass to tarmac
table to booth
under canvas or tree
percussion circulates
mutates, becomes circus –
a merry-go-round of faces, names 
I recapture after twenty years
to pocket, finger, and discover
memory lingers with coffee
lured to present tense pleasure
while the yard-sale trumpets
and last year’s treasures
flock to new homes
