I hadn't noticed the circus in town

all those immigrant species,

flora and fauna on days of rain

until the sun shone again,

and saw then that the ox carts had arrived

the pony traps,

waggons with all their paraphernalia,

chain gangs of spider's webs

 

all those colours that welcome light

showing off in wild abandon were there,

the dependencies of bees on flowers,

ladybirds in shy shell wings

earnest with leaves,

beetles in caves of dripping wood.

 

The circus was a riot of air and damp earth;

floats, big top sunflowers,

flotillas of flying things on trapezes

pollen crazy, ungainly clowns in dust,

and all this in my trip to the garden.

 

Everything moves on, of course

trundles away with its life source,

but I thanked my lucky stars

for the joy of nature's treasures

soppy with myself.