Wednesday, July 4, 2007

"Blood Brothers"

Fourteen elephants working in the mud
Harnessed bulls pull the load
Up the way goes the big top
Sweat and blood spills onto the road
The canvas calls like sails on a ship
Whipping their tails in the wind
The yaw of the rope twists and sings
Bare knuckles exposed and skinned
The taste of mud and sweat mingles
Leaving its essence in my mouth
Tackle and wrestling with the canvas
So that I might have my way with it
Defeating hard winds from the South
There is turmoil in the menagerie
Ramah my elephant friend
I am upon her back once again
Her knees buckle into the bend
My first time out she took to me
Not a day has gone by since then
We have seen eye to eye
Beyond the understanding of all men
I know her cries-she knows my eyes
To this canvas what must be done
It is a fight against the ropes
Never ending until it has been done
Dust creeps into our bones
My callouses are in likeness to her hide
There is this thing between us that lives
For in it we live and must abide
Words that are spoken that only we know
Even more so their real meaning
Pull to the right and head off the wind
Uprighting the center pole which is leaning
Our hearts are never broken while at work
Patrons around who gawk as they lurk
This tarp like sandpaper chaffs my face
It gnaws and teases Ramah so
Rope burns us but still remains
Our everlasting companion
In deep respect we continue to go
Forward moving always moving forward
Background noises of steaming trains
Who are they to judge us
They know not of our pains

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

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