When they fell from the skies with the greatest of ease,
they landed on the ground under tents and trapeze.
They were told that they fell with such beauty and grace,
that "The Flying Wallendas" would be the name on their case.
The fine folks of Akron would forever be saying,
that they flew through the air like the wings of a prayer.
And they all walked away amidst the gawking and stares.
And the children revisited their fall in nightmares.
They never would stop, they never surrendered.
They lived like they died, the Flying Wallendas.
They could dance on the wire, through the fire and the storm.
John Ringling had seen Karl in Cuba perform.
He raised up his kids for performance and stardom.
They performed center ring at Madison Square Garden.
With a seven-man pyramid, folks lined up just to see them.
Till they fell from the sky in the Detroit State Fair Coliseum.
When they fell to the ground with the greatest of ease,
three didn't get up from the blood and the breeze.
But Karl wouldn't be stopped from his home in the skies,
till he fell from the wire in San Juan and he died.
In Sarasota as a child, my grandparents lived next door
to the surviving Wallendas and their amazing wild stories.
I was stunned and astounded, the old lady who was out
pruning her orange trees had flown to the heavens and back.