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Rated: E · Image · Cover Art · Writing · #2338951

I’m for me now. Where are you? Rhetorical and ‘I accept your…what’?

When The Circus, Always A Tent

Let’s go for a ride, brother
Through the neighborhoods we can’t recall
Until we see how small
A big world once seemed

Let’s roll the bumpy tarred lines
In and out of that torment
Way, way back on the wrong side
Of ore-spill tracks

The last offerings of a town
Long since folding down
Storefronts locked block
By blocky in weeded lots

When a circus tent rose there
On the corner of that ball field
On simple bikes we froze
A splendor there would yield

We had eyes for blue skies
You in your greasy blue uni
With fingers not as clean
But calloused more than mine

And I was left behind to roam
In all the places we called home
While you had family to raise,
Money needed to be earned

I yearned beyond the big top
Spied skies with only my name
Not to be a call to fame
But lonely distraction, inane

Do you see skies from Heaven now?
Can we roll one night, be cool
Rolling with that car down avenues
Nothing on our minds, no place to be

In the old neighborhood, strange looks
At an old man ambling about
Recalling what can be inferred
From a lonely, empty past without you

Back over those axels I wheel
Back through the night torment
That I haven’t been there yet
Where to place my tent.


5.25.25
Rare 427 R-code 425 HP 1963 1/2 Ford Galaxie 500 fastback restored well over 90 grade.

I’m stupidly optimistic at dawn, stoic by noon, a cynic until life sets.
I’m for me now. Where are you? Rhetorical and ‘I accept your…what’?
© Copyright 2025 Brian K Compton (UN: ripglaedr3 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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