Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Not My Parade

That simply isn’t my parade.
So I don’t mind if it’s raining.
I don’t mind if it’s cold.
I don’t mind if the roads
are slick and wet.
I just don’t mind.
It isn’t my parade.

That’s not my calliope music.
Those aren’t my elephants.
Those are not my clowns tumbling
and somersaulting.
That’s not my ring master.
That’s not my lion tamer.

That’s not my trapeze crew.
I don’t know who they are.
They fling and fly with the
greatest of ease.
They are not mine.
I don’t know them.

So go ahead and rain.
It’s doesn’t matter to me.
Let the skies open and the
monsoon come.
I’ve got no dancing pony in
this parade.

Do your tricks,
do your flips,
do your show,
in the rain,
it matters very little to me.

Run and rush,
scatter and push,
cover and cower
between the heavy rain drops.
It won’t make a difference to

I’ve got my own parade
to tend to.
A girl on the high wire to
A tiger to tame.
All in the sun.
Some other day.

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