A Troupe / A Circus

A weight plummets and a revealing roar
explodes with light and wonder, raw.

Trumpets bleat as the thundering feet
send waves through the leaning shelter of sheet.

Fizzing gunpowder competes with the loud
and boisterous clapping, rabid, blue crowd.

Dust in the air with the smoke and the fair
scents of a bustling, riotous chair after chair.

The pulpit is gleaming and the patrons are steaming
in a madness showing absolutely no sign of leaving.


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