Tight Rope Walker
On the market square
A new busker was in town
We all stood and looked
Reaching for our coins
We tossed them into his bag
We kept looking back
Such careful balance
While he played the violin
Dressed for a circus
Calm and collected
He moved with out any fear
Never looking up
The sweet notes rang out
Classical talent for sure
Right there in the street
The image remains
I can see him in my sleep
Processing my dreams
How like life, I think
We all walk on fragile space
Balancing our fears
At those same moments
The sun is out and we breathe
Playing the tunes we know
I'm glad I saw him
Inspiring me to rethink
My desperations
Copyright © Karen Price | Year Posted 2010
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