Playing The Fool

Even as he smiles,
the tears fall
Behind a mask
too fixed
to be anything but false.

But still the crowds
clap and cheer
And still the children pose,
arms wrapped round his neck
as
parents snap away
at memories to post on facebook
or to stow away in some archaic album
no-one really looks at.

He has played the fool too long
And aged too quickly.
But no more.

The plains are calling him home.
And even as he lifts his tired trunk
he can smell the Kenyan air never quite forgotten.