TFR Home Page TFR Home PageContents ContentsPrev. Page Prev. PageNext Page Next PageComments Comments

The Hartford Circus Fire
By Anna V. Q. Ross

Afterward they remembered animals
howling as the rigging swayed and shifted,
a flame running up to light the flag,

then the big top sinking: a woman kneeling
for water in the desert, her skirts burning dune-high.
When only air was left, they returned

to find bodies curled into each other
like morning glories hunched against noon
and a boy scorched and spitting

to put himself out. Coke bottles pooled
to reflect the cloudless afternoon above
a mother and child fused still, another

stretched charred arms and legs to the wilted
trapeze, and the empty lion cage stood black
against the flattened black midway.

TFR Home Page | Submission Guidelines | Frequently Asked Questions | Sign Our Guest Book | Contents | Donations
Workshops | Event Calendar | TFR Background | How to Contact Us | Editors and Authors Only | Privacy Statement

© Copyright 1997, 2023, The Fairfield Review Inc., All Rights Reserved.
Document last modified on: 08/19/2002

(i[r].q=i[r].q||[]).push(arguments)},i[r].l=1*new Date();a=s.createElement(o),

ga('create', 'UA-22493141-2', 'auto');
ga('send', 'pageview');