Days of stage

I remember the days of stage

and the wrestling with bodies through space,

and the script and imagination in play

in the forming and contorting to produce

a performance for an audience to see.


And it was a game with rules

that everyone knew but never said,

with agents as creators, as egos

playing their spoken and unspoken parts in this

battle of wills and power displays

that went on till performance and then beyond

in the pain of learning lines and learning each other


I recall the making of the play and the highs

when all went well in the crucible of the audience

and the lows of lost lines and dead crowds that

is the season that begins and ends with

the entrance on the stage to face this

living and breathing heaven and hell.