8. Acrobat

Acrobats swing at the edge of life.
Outside a breeze drags tents,
blows fairy-floss through dust.
A voice announces a merry-go-round
where animals sway and jerk,
sun glaring on their paint.

Children scream and squeal.
Behind the circus tent a clown
whitens his face, makes-up a smile
crosses his eyes. He crosses
the stage to the spotlight,
grimaces, does a trick.

Each night it's a task
climbing to the bar
to swing upon
the strangely dark
yet lighted are
of the high trapeze,

waiting for an end
when the crowd's poor
and the ropes aren't right,
thinking there's no point
imitating flight
when the real thing could be tried,

if only once,
the crowd's general shout
to seal his solitude.