Juggler

(6th of July 2024, Sandler's Wells)

you perform your best stunts

the woman in the front row 

withholds smiles

close enough to see your fingers curling 

on the edge of that next straw hat 

you briefly caught and released

not close enough to smell the sweat 

streaming underneath the shimmering leotard

contortionists sinew 

with a pirouette, the acrobats

conceal that moment 

when they have stepped into the wings 

and the masks come off 

arms relax

they don't owe us their true faces or their slumped torsos

this is not a ticket to their souls 

later I see you at the edge of the stalls

folded under a metal ladder 

in your black cloak of anonymity 

to your audience

you exist only in a pool of light 

crossing the fourth wall 

my eyes search out yours 

I want you to know that 

I have spotted you

my watchfulness separates me from 

those who look but cannot see

in my world, I move like a film

but my audience only sees in snapshots

they want to see you teeter

but they don't want to see you fall - they say

sometimes I make a gesture

as if I am laying down a sharp sword

like I could fight with my bare hands 

or not fight at all

when you stepped out of the limelight 

you gave up on the applause

has the audience left 

or will there be another curtain call 

in this auditorium and at funerals 

I am always sat on the last pew 

they sing

lord of hopefulness, lord of joy 

but I'm outside, following a child 

amongst the graves