SINGING TO THE CARNIVAL
By Angela Turner
I’ve been singing
To the carnival
Ever since you can remember
Sometimes
With the stage fright
Of opening night
Trembling just beneath
The skin
Sometimes
Like the well worn
Paths of a sonnet.
Rote, familiar,
warm
And Lately,
As the ballad of sunset
Sends the lights to whirring
And the music to
Jar the night ‘s somnolence
Beginnings unfurl in you
Like the big top.
Death defying feats
Of the marvelous Maloneys,
Or tigers
Passing through the flame
And the stadium is seated
With row after row of
Possibilities,
I sing
With the belabored breath
Of a hospice
Knowing this chance could
Be my last
For all the new
And beautiful things
That will astound and amaze
Have designed the tent
For the next town
And their tunes
Require a different song
Than this singer
And her worn out notes
That grow the bones
building the man.
So just one last time
Let the old girl sing
To the head on pillow
And blankets all tucked in
Around the carnival in you.
That was once in me
Before I was amazed and astounded
By this life and all that awaits