Cirque de soleil and my daughters

Cirque de soleil and my daughters laughing on either side of me

at the antics of athletic clowns and of Andy, the gentleman behind us

chosen from the audience, a good sport

Our awe at the skill of a sleek lady who could twirl hoops with feet, arms

neck, torso while in positions most of us have never been in in our lives

At the daring of men dancing, skipping rope or riding a bike

with another standing on his shoulders on the high wire

And breath-held fear for the safety of the man performing atop the rotating

wheel, or the one posing balanced atop the ever-taller tower of stacked chairs

And for those catapulted, spinning in the air to land on the shoulders

of a tower of men or, bound into stilts or a lengthy pogo stick, doing

somersaults before landing upright on thick mat

the story of old-time circus thrilling its chuckling, gasping

screaming audience