Fixed Rings. Poem by Miki Byrne

Fixed Rings.
The Hoop-La was fixed. I felt it.
Never trusted those rings
that fitted over wooden blocks,
held prizes that sat
like pedestalled trophies.
Always knew I should have tried
Hook-a-duck, chanced my luck
on the River of Coins. But no.
Five rings for one pound.
Win a Teddy bear. Drew me in.
Offered a tantalising hope of winning.
Each throw would hook the ring
Catch on one tiny corner of the block.
Rock into perilous immobility.
Come oh-so- close.
Taunt me into another throw.
Tease more coins from my purse.
The showman would demonstrate.
Slide a ring up, over. Lay it flat on the table,
neatly encircling the best prize.
Repeat the action in confident triumph.
Grin encouragingly. I would fall for it.
Try again, again. I never won.
Never saw anyone win.