Dear Joseph and Patrick,
I’m at the circus, hoping
you are not here seeing it
from a back row seat.  
There’s an orange-haired clown
in the middle ring—no idea
what the made-up face,
the wild waving mean. Minions
he doesn’t notice flick lint
from his suit. And a magician
pulls guns from a sombrero
just to distract us. I think
you’re better off with your
pretend friend Sally. Keep  
gliding high above it all
with her till we get this show
shut down.
Love, Nana