The Circus Act: Part 1

Third row from the top.

Confusion.

In the noise,

In the smells,

In the blinding lights.

A tiger tamer,

Her leather whip snapping.

Roars of pain from the creature

Cheers from the faces of plastic,

Ears of Wax,

And Eyes of Glass.

Like a sea,

Surrounding you.

High above the tamer,

A petite blonde trapeze artist.

Her blue leotard

The long trailing fabric.

Something would happen…

The crack of the whip.

Your attention

Now on the tamer and her lion.

A magnificent roar,

Yet still,

One of pain.

A loud snap.

And clear above the noise.

You look at the whip,

The hand back at the draw.

A gasp,

You hear above the noise,

Looking up

The petite trapeze falling.

Her hair,

A curtain for her emotion.

A Free Fall of Mishap.

Your legs lead you to the edge of the center ring,

You reach out,

As if to catch her.

The brush of her hair,

Softer than silk,

Her blue eyes filled with surprise.

A thud,

A snap,

Dead silence from the crowd.

The music still playing,

The lion no longer roars,

The crowd no longer cheers.

A child’s cry,

A woman’s scream,

A man’s gasp.

“What happened?”

“What Happened?”

“What Happened?”

A somber tone,

Amongst the panic,

“She was killed”