I met the gypsy fortune-teller,

walking down the dark path on crystal hill.

She saw I was a seeker, she offered to help.

For a fee.

I didn’t expect to find you out here,

I said, trembling at the sudden rush of wind

through the trees.

“Why let a fortune-teller in a circus booth

or city street peek into your soul?,” she chided,

spitting and whistling through the gap in her front teeth.

“Let me do it, I’ll tell your fortune in exchange

for that crystal you wear over your heart.”

My hand went to my heart, the crystal was

tucked inside my shirt, she could not have seen it.

She laughed at me.

“A new fish said to an old fish in town,

were can a pilgrim and wanderer

find the truth about his life and see into the future?”

She was teasing me now.

I took off my crystal and handed it to her,

she laughed again, louder this time,

and pushed it deep into her huge

brown bag, which clanked and jangled.

“I like you, young man,” she said, winking at me.

I smiled back.

“I can read the fine print on a star, ” I bragged,

blushing a bit.

She laughed once more.

“Then why seek guidance from an old snake,

coiled around a tree, in this carnival

some call life?”