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Language, Literature, Learning & Life.




Poem

Troupe Portrait with Unicycle.

by Amy D. Unsworth

One tent, one ring

and the ponies trudging their sad circles,

the bags of peanuts shrunken

to fit a child’s hand.

But the spangled girls still ascend

to the lofted ceiling,

to dangle by heel or tooth.

And to the father’s broad shoulders

the sons catapult.

And Daughter steps

from her high platform, like off the curb

in her everyday boredom.



From: Tar River Poetry, Spring 2007




2 comments:

Dick said...

A neat encapsulation of what might be spectacle for us but is routine for the performer.

Amy D. Unsworth said...

Hi Dick,
Nice to see you stopping by again! It's fascinating to contemplate all of the different paths that people can take in their lives. There's plenty of poetry in that line of thought!

Best,
Amy