I've just found this board, and I look forward to any critique any of you would care to offer wrt the following poem.
Harlequin Romance
Torn, rolled cartwheels and
pratfalls
tumbling out
spilled smiles
given shyly from behind
hands now holding.
Tendons glisten exposed
by spotlight, silhouette
high above
on the tent’s
rear canvas,
while chalk stained fingers
grip so tightly
they may break.
And in ring three
my heart wrestles
with lions
that win sometimes
and my blood
soaks in to straw
and sand.
Red smiles drawn on
faces painted white,
with patches near the scalp
that are clumped and oily,
with crooked teeth that cannot
cover breath gone bad,
my child cries
while the other children
laugh
tinkling giggles that
sparkle until they
are forgotten underfoot,
and the long car ride home
begins.