Sunday, April 20, 2014

The naive juggler

A fire torch, an apple, my heart.
one after the other
the juggler tosses them up.

They revolve around him
at the same interval of my pulse.
A club, a serpent, a book.

He throws them behind his back,
he twines them around his neck,
one after the other

I watch them as they fall.
The things heaved into the air
sometimes are missed on their way down.

4 comments:

  1. I learned to juggle in college instead of doing physics homework. Now you know one reason I flunked out of engineering... ~

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I attended circus classes for a year! ^_^ After writing this poem this morning I had to get my clubs and throw them up a little to help erase unhappy thoughts. I'm so glad to hear you juggle. <3

      Delete
    2. been a long time. i did clubs for a little while, never more than 3.

      circus!!! wow. cool. what was that you said? a red nose is the world's smallest mask? now that has context... ~

      Delete
  2. I really like this!

    ReplyDelete