Saturday, March 7, 2015

Our Lady of the Circus

 Ms God Almighty
© 2014  Madelaine Nerson Mac Namara

Are you not the tightrope
the see-saw umbrella
the wavering pendulum
of the dance of my arms?
Are we not each other's
first step, last call?

You are beat of the blood
in my ears, in the hearts
of watchers crying out
in fear, in hope, uncertain
of my fall, of your own
of their safe return home.

You are fine silk ribbon
gathering wild curls
you are net holding tight
stray strands round my head
you are net and hammock
and the swing of my life.

I walk among whispers
stop and start silences
mighty, mean, miserable
mysterious meanings mime
you uproar arrivals
interpret clapping hands.

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