The Circus

Larry D. Thomas

Tightrope Walker

A taut, white rope
thrums beneath him
like a noose, unlooped and unknotted.

He looms high above the circus floor,
a daredevil in the spotlight-lit ether
of angels. Each waver of his body

sucks deep gasps from the crowd.
The thrill whips his blood
into epiphany. With a knuckle-

white grip, he grasps his pole
and freezes near the rope’s end
as if Balance, his elusive Savior,

may betray him. His slippered feet
clutch the rope like the talons
of a white raptor.




 

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