Cori's Poem

Heart Tastes

A cotton candy machine spins a sweet wind.
The pink sugar threads bunch together and wait
For the vendor to sell them to a sour child.
A girl who thought she would win first prize,
A girl who has learned the spicy taste of second.
The tunnel in the park is made of peppered black stone.
Sweet lovers pass under and smile inside,
Their kisses echo and so whatever felt sour
An hour ago fades as they pass the girl,
Happy with candy, they feel pink.
Beyond the tunnel, the bicyclists zoom past, doing laps,
Around this park, this candy-land, their bodies are sugared
With human spices, salt and sweat. They look at watches,
They time their lives by heart paces, curving the track,
The sweet lovers stroll past, they are the heart tasters.
Watching from the window that overlooks the park,
The old man is surrounded by art, the famous museum,
But the palette of the paintings pale in contrast to the crowd.
On this sweet spring day, the beauty of still life seems over-spiced,
Next to this real life, he wonders,
How he got stuck.