Toward Midnight

Sheena Cook on Thursday, March 31, 2022


The fire dances in the centre
Circled by the painted caravans
Wooden wagons embrace
Voices rise and fall
Sparks flurry before they fall

She nods to those who notice
Feet treading the dewy grass
Dogs curled beneath steps
Ignore her lantern’s glow
Above floors creak and windows glow

A breeze riffles the flags
The Big Top’s only stirring
Owl hoots approval
As the circus prepares to sleep
Strongman snoring; rumbling sleep

Bareback ballerina’s horse
Crops meadow grass
Snowy unicorn white
Solid in the moonlight
Mane shimmers by moonlight

On the riverbank
She hangs her clothes
Upon outstretched branch
Wades into the amber water
Floats in the flowing water

Swimming by the swans serene
The river’s their stage for grace
Scars tingle a reminder
She accepts her beauty within
Doubt ebbs away, contentment within

Willows trail the surface
From the shadows she emerges
Stands modestly statuesque
Let’s her skin dry naturally
The stars see her naturally

Drifting back to the fire
She takes her place
Beside the few that dally
This a travelling community
Now her close knit community

Embers fade with kisses ‘Goodnight’
Acts left in the sawdust ring
She strokes the piebald by her tent
Breaths this restful moment
Foresees the next dream moment