The Circus Is Falling Down On Its Knees

There always was something magical about the summertime. I think it stemmed from all those years spent in school, trapped inside for the beginnings of Spring, but when the weather turned warm, we were set free. I think that's why we were drawn so much to the night. The sun would start to set and a breeze would pick up, and once that generator started up, the show began again. Standing there under the flashing lights, smelling the food, surrounded by music and voices and the roar of the rides, we spoke without saying a word. A quick glance, a fleeting touch in between barking our entertainment to the masses...the smell of perfume mixed with cotton candy, dirt, and sweat. These things were summer. These things are summer. Coloured flags are flying now right down the street, the moon sits heavy and yellowing in the night sky as the crickets chirp...and in the midnight silence, I still see you in my old worn flannel shirt (linus, you called it because you never went anywhere without it)...slipping your hand into mine as we leaned against the car and smoked one last cigarette in the aftermath of a night's chaos, and you'd turn and say come on buddy, let's go home. As much as a real adult life stepped in, I think a part of us still runs those roads, walks those midways, and dances in the lights. Maybe we grew up too fast. Maybe I never did. Hell, I don't know. Maybe I'll meet you again beside the game trailer and just for a minute we won't remember that we're not still there.


----for some reason I can't get her out of my mind lately. ----and now back to the regularly scheduled drivel.