The Clown Speaks...

Chagall

The Clown Speaks

©2012 Susan Noyes Anderson

If I should wake up and be free

of all the people watching me

and say good-bye to tightrope walking,

big top, and calliope––

then would I search the silence deep,

embrace the parts of me that sleep,

let go of cotton candy dreams,

and hold to truth that I can keep.

Le cirque makes life a bagatelle,

a hanging-by-your-knees trapeze.

(But still I crave the salty smell

of peanuts roasted in the shell.)

What is this tent that holds me fast,

this ringmaster that paints my face?

If I sign on, the die is cast.

The shell game has its way at last.

for more mags, click here