My Dad Runs the Circus

Every day the sun descends
The fireflies begin to blink
That's when we know
It’s time to get ready

All of my Dad’s workers adorn their costumes
Flashes of crimson, swaths of gold
The people roar in their seats
It is no match

The workers produce vibrant paints
They color the feathers of a peacock
On their faces
The birds are jealous

Everyone is ready
That’s when my Dad comes out
The first one on stage
He ascends atop the pedestal

He roars
The humans are silent
This is not my first time
Hearing that roar

With majesty he leaps
through a blazing ring
With poise he perches on the applause
Proudly he lifts his head

His mane glides as he moves
I am a cub
But I will have a mane like his
My teeth to be just as massive

The rest of his workers take the stage
They spin and twirl with grace
They create fire and devour it
Where does it go

Wings of silk soar around the tent
Dainty footwork slides across a thin line
Clowns flood out of a car
Where do they come from

Stars of the night sky shine down
But in the center of the light
The innermost of all the elegance
Is my Dad

I envision myself up there
I observe carefully
For my time is soon
To compose like he does

When the night ends
The humans leave
But the awe does not
It emanates throughout

All the magic is packed up
We go back to our home on wheels
Moving north
Again we wait for dusk