Uncaged animals
They speak
but then they don’t
these handlers of truth
their baton tongues rattle
along loose evaporating bars
we see through a decline
without any nurture
the promise withering within
still
I’ll hold your hand
step out Fred and Ginger
fall and rise
hand on cuff less wrist
over this diapason rescue
but then again
the side show ennui
calls us back
one last performance
we will grow tired
of the ringmaster’s whip
stand up with the big cat
nine tails or lives
if you slip
I will slip too
one for one
this is how a number grows.
Published in Live Encounters Volume One December 2019 edited by Mark Ulyseas
James Walton Poetry 