Dick
He was a boy when the circus first came to the of his West Texas town. And twenty years later, he'd twenty years as Jocko the Sad Circus Clown. He did slap-stick gags in grease paint and rags and the people would 'til they cried. But they never saw past the painted clown to the sad, empty man locked inside.
The trapeze lady easy and gracefully, high in the high trapeze swing. Her were flyers. The circus was her life. The carny was deep in her veins. High in the spotlights in sequins and pink tights, she like a bird in the wind. The saw dust's on daughter, the men who caught her were all that she brought to her tent.
Jocko down with the center ring clowns with a sad painted smile on his face And the trapeze lady swung easy and high in the great canvas space. Jocko looked up with a tear in his heart and, Lord, he he could fly For she never down at a baggy pants clown who looked up with love in his eyes.
It was Tulsa, the last stop, the last show of the big top, a loud, sell-out filled the seats. They clapped for the walk-around and cheered for the clowns. The fliers brought to their feet. Then a still half-lit match fell in tender dry and soon found the dry saw dust floor. The flames leaped higher. When the people heard, "Fire!" they swept like a for the door.
Jocko looked up to the top of the tent and a hundred from the ground Swung the trapeze lady, up on the swing, alone, with no way to get down. He ran to the ladder led to the platform, she cried, "Jocko, no! There's no time!" But her quick word of fear fell deaf on love's ear as he started to climb.
Hand over hand to the high flier's stand, taking the rope that hung With one quick look down, the sad clown looked up and took to the air. Slow slowly he started to swing, his eyes turned to tears in the smoke. Faster then faster and as he past her, her strong flier hands found the rope.
She slipped to the ground as the found the rigging and licked at the rope that he held. started below when the rigging let go and down to the saw dust he fell. She ran to his side and tears in her eyes, "Oh, no! Jocko, why?" she cried. He raised his sad head. "I you," he said and he closed his eyes and he died.
Now, the trapeze lady swings easy and high in the great canvass space. But a place and a time are etched in her mind of a smile painted on a sad face. And she sometimes looks down to the ring clowns for someone she never has found. For she still remembers the time when love came to her the face of a clown.