Flying, vaulting, somersaulting, graceful in the air,

Twists and flips and swings and grips the handle waiting there,

High trapeze, no safety net, onlookers watch him gravely,

As daily he represses fear and plies his labour bravely.

Duty brings him to the ring, a daily public feat,

He would instead be home in bed, not out there in the heat,

Someone must resist the odds, must make them understand,

The ring is full of risk and fear and he must take command.

Ropes are frayed, and steel decayed, he flies atop the tent,

Taking chances slim finances would appease if spent,

Other circus needs are great, trapeze is low priority,

Voices calling out for help are sadly in minority.

And so he flies, and death-defies, rebuffing malediction,

Under-tooled and ridiculed, a public contradiction,

The circus needs trapeze, for some would other acts adore,

Without the artist in the air who would uphold the law?

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