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10/19/11 - (1)
On Circus Time
What could be a more uplifting prospect, This not-quite-right Thursday twilight, Than resetting our wrist watches, to circus time, Preparing to lose ourselves, for a few fanciful hours, To a spectacularly miraculous, super-duper stupendousness Of performing elephants, horses, dogs, lions, and tigers, Immersing our tear-weary spirits, In the derring-do of tightrope cyclists, the Human Fuse, Our tired psyches, in the graceful flying of exquisite aerialists, Our eyes, to the hijinks of a pack of rascally, pratfalling clowns, Our ears, to the brassy bravado of a twelve-piece orchestra,
Especially when, just the solemn, somber, sobering day before, We laid my mother beside her husband, Said our last thank-yous, prayers, good-byes, farewells, Left her to the privacy of their first night together For the rest of their restful forever? What could possibly be a more uplifting prospect Than forgetting the present, amidst the hurly-burly of a circus — The Greatest Show on Earth (and in the Universe) — Sitting back, with a sack of salted-in-the-shell peanuts, reveling? I know: having my mom sitting beside Linda and me, Wide-eyed, holding my hand . . . my six-year-old hand.
10/19/11 - (1)
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