The smell of the bull, the leather, the hay, the cowboy sits ready to race from the shoot.
Eyes bright behind greasepaint, the overhauls, the bandanas, the rodeo clown stands muscles tight , ready to save the day.
The buzzer sounds, a cloud of dust rises, the beast is unleashed into the ring.
The cowboy pitches to and fro, riding with all his might, as the bull twists and turns, bucking high, feet flying, horns ready to snuff out a mans life.
The rider falls amidst pounding hooves, a cry rises from the crowd,
The clown dashes forward, risking life and limb to come between rider and this beast.
The monstrous animal thunders, head down, the clown spins, barely escaping sure death
The clown dives for the barrel,the beast tosses it around like a feather in a summer storm.
The cowboy jumps over the rail, safe from harms way as the bull is herded away.
The clown slowly rises , a bit shaken and bruised. The crowd lets out an enormous cheer.
He takes a small bow , and shuffles out of the ring limping slightly as he waves.
A small girl giggles at the brave rodeo clown, delighted by his smile.
And as the old clown goes to his dressing room, tired, sweating, and sore,
he reflects on his life and the joy that he gives and smiles humbly...
After all, ....It's all in a days work.
By: Deborah Smith 3/9/99

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