Words: Reflection on a festival

I have come to know this copse of trees well
Standing tall and strong waiting for my return
Five years out of seven, always present
Watching the rest of the year waltz by
Capturing the outward breath of the inward looking
who come grasping for a moment
in the clean nature of a world outside of this one
that is somewhat less illuminated and, well, ordinary.

Middle aged men wear glitter and patterned shirts
In an attempt to shake of the tedium of the other life
Escaping from the daily routine
Inside – thinking, breaking, sinking
under the weight of mediocrity
But, in this moment, they are free spirits
if somewhat uncomfortable in this guise

Young men and women with impolite levels of flesh revealed
explore this moment of freedom
Shaking off the restrictions that their real world
is slowly starting to impose on them
The young men strut effortlessly, torso’s bared
While middle age spreads uncontrollably underneath
fake faded seventies t-shirts bought the previous week from Next
Older people attempt cool and fail
Bigger people attempt to float like their thinner counterpoints
flowery and cotton clad
No clinging savagely for the svelte, just serene draping

In a world where we need to desperately find ourselves in the day to day
beyond the selfie world of pretend glamour
We escape for a few glorious days to be someone we are not.

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