The Tightrope

Big topped circus, red and white and gold striping
canvas tents, hot and heavy, circles
surrounding the excitement inside.

People like cattle ushered inside of the corral
filling the wooden planks, popcorn flying
from little paper buckets.

Ringmaster takes the stage, hat tall, looming
over a red jacket. Clowns with peeping red
noses and smiles, colors of the rainbow.

Giant gray elephants, stomping in circles,
playing follow the leader. Horses chasing
in a game of simon says and tag you're it.

But then the acrobats begin to fly through the sky,
challenging the top of the canvas, making the ceiling
limitless, walking the tightrope.

The acrobats know more about life than I.
They trust the net underneath them, know their center
of balance, believe in those surrounding them, ready to catch.

They work as a team, connect as a family,
become blurs through the air, flashing
sequins and shine. They are my finale.

The clowns may laugh. The animals may chase.
The lions may roar and the juggles juggle.
But the acrobats are where life comes alive.