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.