Poetry

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Even Acrobats and Clowns Grow Old

by Peter Belfiore, May 27, 2009

We teetered on the edge of precipices,
ballet dancers with no fear,
stood beneath falling buildings,
in just the right, safe spot,

and now,
the oddity of mere balance fascinates,
long bone teetering atop long bone,
the mere fact of walking.

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