Mr Blondin

Mr Blondin draws his breath,
tiptoes to find his grip
on the wire high
above Niagara Road,
passes over the rooftops
of homes, shops –
cars and buses,
a million times a year.
On his tightrope,
he buys a loaf and Brie de Meaux.
Going to work, he reads
a paper, takes a snooze,
speaks to crows and seagulls.

High-wired above the crowds,
he doesn’t need a tube pass.