Tightrope Talk

The tightrope’s all about the gap,
from crossing line to where might drop;
but also if the word divides,
another gap for tight rope scene,
for how it’s seen gives us its mean.
My college trunk at porter’s lodge –
did tight tied knots hold fast as chains?
Or trussed up victim, kidnapped, shot?
And trusting hold in abseil leap;
again, ascent – less mountain goat?

But Blondin’s name synonymous
with entertainment over rifts;
Niagara, the showman’s walk,
on foot, in sack, wheelbarrow wheeled,
his manager on piggyback.
At Crystal Palace – near my birth –
he crossed the rope by bicycle,
a model, engineered, New Cross –
and where I went to school indeed –
another tightrope, by report.

The tests, sobriety, I’ve seen
as tripping some fantastic line;
need balance, bar both light and long,
but not that hangdog look, like noosed.
So can we talk without offence
as Blondin walked without a fence?
So try the ply, how thick that strand
and set out on toe-curling trail.
In stirring air and atmosphere
we recognise risk, overspill.

It is all in the grip, you see,
a sampler of the knots displayed,
their anchor in those crampon stakes.
And if you’re diplomat at large
you’ll know the score, the gauge employed,
a talker, knowing strains involved,
each accents hanging in the air,
a charmed snake, Mesmer, swaying thrill..
As concentration, words unspoke,
with conversation, silence gold.

Published by Medusa’s Kitchen, 25th March 2024

https://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2024/03/one-step-at-time.html