Costume Shop
by Fred Pond
That’s all there was to the earthquake
except for mud and mud and broken glass
the muck collecting everywhere
Venetian masks against the wall
Carnival A sabre and a seltzer bottle
clown’s nose red an orange wig--
You go about your business cleaning up the mess
when the bell above the entrance jangles
Come in we’re open A customer
staggers forward grips the counter with both hands
Have you seen my daughter
I can’t find her She is missing
A cut on his right forehead
From there a rivulet
meanders past his eye
flows to dry in his moustache
Her name is Venus says the customer We named her
after the planet We named her after the goddess
About the Author
Fred Pond lives in Concord, North Carolina. Retired from careers in nursing and the army, he reads and writes poetry daily. Such has been the case for most of his life.
His most recent publications can be found in MEAT FOR TEA, THE PURITAN, and TOE GOOD.