Cavalcade, grease paint, thundering horses
Behind the fortune tellers tent a lovers’ tryst.
The lion's fur was touched with grey this year
He no longer seemed to mind the loutish taunts.
The high wire girl flies more fulsome now
And on the ground talked closely to the clown in green.
Was there something in the tumbling of the acrobats,
Shifting friendships making new pyramids ?
And at the grand finale
Amid the blast of music and the glare of lights
A little girl in tears was returned to her mother.
The strong man bends bars with her forget-me-nots
She sails on his bon-voyage.
Torn circus posters hang from boarded windows now.
A face gazes out of an upstairs window.
A swirl of litter gallops in futile circles.
Roaring traffic hides the townscape in diesel murk.
The mad rush of people makes no pattern
Across the market square.
And at the start of every day
We remember the songs you sang with us
And share them with our children.
