A poem
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The circus came to town last night,
and the tattered big top
smelled of sawdust and ghosts.
The carnival rolled in after midnight,
casting a hazy glow over the sleepy town.
Muffled laughter, faint calliope music
drifting through the cool air,
beckoning the curious to step inside
and be transformed.
Elephant footprints marked the dewy grass,
leading to a world of wonder.
Trapeze artists soaring high above,
clowns tumbling and cavorting,
lion tamers daring fate.
Stars twinkled, applaudingĀ
the timeless magic of the circus,
where the ordinary becomes extraordinary,
if only for one night.
When the last wagon
creaked out of town at dawn
the spell was broken,
leaving only the faint scent
of candied apples,
and the whispers of dreams
taking flight.
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