Singing barefoot at the food festival
Oh, the jokes we made
About that place
With a friendly smile
We made light of the simplicity of
Country life
But when ensconced
Never had we felt
So pleased to
Be where we were
With the roosters for sale
The barbecues alight
And me, my flip-flops left
Under the only table
As the smoke came of the grill
As a child sat on the ground
Scooping handfuls of dirt in to
His mouth
I sang as loud as I could to the sounds of
A parochial guitar
And hope's extinction was further away than ever
As I bounced
To the rhythm
My toes on the pebbles
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