Comments Inbox
| |
About This Poem
The Circus
You'd rather penetrate the gray,
Then recognize the glory.
Fine, I will walk this high-wire with you.
This is my wire, too
We're all part of this circus.
Whether Monday morning rain
Or winter light refrain,
We're breaking down our tents again.
We're moving on to make sense of it again.
|
|
|