Today, today
The trumpets scream
And the people march
To a beating drum
There are men with flames
And precious, shining things
Strewn about
Muddied on the filthy ground
These are wild times, they say
Because the people invade the streets
So that none may leave the city
And their cries resound
And to the republic for which it stands
All hail, King of Carnival
And there are many flags
Some Fleur de Lis
Some tri-color: purple, green, and gold
And amidst the madness is you,
Like a little Dauphin, lost
In the tides of frenzied onlookers
You mount your scaffold
And you watch the people march
And a masked man looks at you straight in the eye
You raise your hands, praying to God
Hoping to grasp the tiny fortune
Which now passes fleetingly right above you
And then the strike
The sharp pain in your head
The feeling of a million beads
Making impact with your little skull
And as the tears well up in your eyes, you watch them fall to the ground
They remove your body from the scaffold
And over the shoulder of your mother
You see a young reveler
Holding your little, shining, purple bag
You extend your arm
Wrap a tiny fist around the bag
And in a wavering voice, mutter a thank you
Mardi Gras:
It’s the best of times
And it’s the worst of times
Emily, age 15