Fairy Godmother

Written
1993

 New towns have no past, of course,

      and ghost towns have no future.

But my home town has too little Now.

That thin line between "was" and

      "will be" has been eroded

      by a colorful and lively history

      and a made by magic future. 

The reenactors have become the docents

      for a priestly order reciting the

      beads of the past.

Each day they serve the cameraed and

     funny hatted pilgrims.

 With practice and repetition their litany

       has become a report of an eye witness.

It is a labor of love in an alternative

      life style.

The past is alive and well,

      thank you. 

The future hopers also have a ritual

       repeated daily

      describing the wonderful

      days ahead.

Over coffee or cocktails,

     at service club meetings

     and on the golf course 

      the prayerful call

      for better times

      mocks the Rain Dance

      of their neighbors.  

They wait and wait

       for the Fairy Godmother to

      deliver the promised miracle.

Perhaps it will be found

      in the roll of the dice

      or the spin of the wheel.

Or, if all the sons and daughters

      sent to a world of the Now

      would come home with their

      fat retirement checks.

That would be a wonderful "Now" 

      for my home town. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A government project or a California

manufacturer looking for

cheap land and good transportation

round out a long list of roads to the

promised land.

 

But weeds grow in the Now time!.

So it also is with the litter and graffiti,

it may have been there yesterday

and could be there tomorrow,

but today is when it can be cleaned.

The Fairy Godmother doesn't visit until

there is a decent place to stand

while making miracles.

 

The town is anticipating this 

great event as if it were a long

overdue visit.

Could it be that the Fairy Godmother

has come and left?

Is there no magic in the air and water?

And what a gift the view of the

of the Peak each morning.

And it just might be that the

silent explosive killer of

canaries was an early gift now

appreciated.

Perhaps the time frame is too narrow.

A community slogan honoring the glory

of Now might help.

So a toast:

Here is to a productive Today made possible by

a glorious Yesterdays and magic Tomorrows.

Make today last long for we have chores to do.

1st Draft 8-28-94

Notes
Published in "Trinidad, Colorado My Home Town" The poem states some of the reservations I have long had about Trinidad. Social structure in the community is such that progress is slowed. Innovation is not encouraged and if by chance something new is tried it is sure to fai/