The carnival is emptying of
all of the dancing trapeze swingers and painted ladies.
The elephants are walking back to the cages for a show that ends for them every evening after dusk
and their tired legs collapse.
But the music
holds us captive still.
The elderly walk hand in hand toward the west where the sun set beacons an end to all of the
frolicking that kept them alive.
And the little ones fight the orders to ” sleep ,child, sleep”.
But they never want to go to sleep without the promise of a dream.
They know that every day the magic fades to the fainter hue of the brightness of the day before.
But the music holds us captive still.
Stars overhead are holes in the
Big top where
we are left alone after the end of the world
and everything fantastical is brought to life
by your eyes on mine.