The Circus Is Gone Poem by Paul Reed
The Circus Is Gone
Last week the world was alive
Painted faces, trick cyclists, trapeze
Hot dogs, burgers, lashings of onions
Fizzy drinks and cups of teas;
But now the field is empty
The air over-hanging, confused
Filled with an eerie new silence
All the excitement diffused;
A stark vacuum of nothingness
Devoid of shriek, scream, whirl and reel
The sorry grass lying pale and parched
Trampled under the Big Top's heel.
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5/2/2024 1:30:55 AM # 1.0.0.1119
A vivid description that took me back to my childhood. Thanks for the reminder. Phil Soar