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Sunday, August 11, 2013



The circus intermittently illuminated
As if by the light that visits us
When the danger has passed but is still
Close enough to our blood that it
Chills and releases us, chills and releases.

The wagons clank by. We want water,
Its sound, its taste, the feel of it
Upon our faces as it pours from
The sky, tears of the sightless who
Sit in the presence of the most high.

Some of the others had gathered by the waterfall.
As the sun was going down they lit
Lanterns and began to move in the ways
The old dances described, lift to the sky, 
Step. Bow to the earth. Step. Make the sound
That conversation has when most
Important things are being acclaimed.

There will be a way that is safe.  We
Continue our circus well into the night,
Until the children fall asleep one by one,
Until the rain slows, Until it becomes to dark to see.