Dream of John Updike at the County Fair

sapphic stanzas?

Photo by Sigmund on Unsplash

I have taken my best-loved poems down to
The county fair where I am stapling them
To a plywood display board, hoping to win
A colored ribbon.

They are written in crayon on white paper.
I get them all stapled but then realize
There are errors, so I pick up a crayon
And begin to work.

I have one more correction to make but then
John Updike steps up and begins reading them.
I’m embarrassed, so I put down the crayon
And take a step back.

John takes his time thoughtfully perusing them,
Which I find encouraging. But his face is
Expressionless, which worries me. I wonder
If I should say hello.

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