A poem that explores what happens when the theatre closes for the night. |
Another performance ended For better or for worse Silence has descended Tragedy and farce Quiet where there was chaos Footsteps echoing across the dark The stage empty of players A single light, white and stark It stands alone stage center Just a plain bulb on a stand Upon the well worn boards Placed by the last stagehand After the curtain closes The final lines have ceased The empty theatre is silent The memories are released How many have walked this stage With dreams so like mine? Hungering for the applause Intoxicating as wine. How many heartbreaks? Joyful and bitter tears? Real or imagined? Confidence and fears? How many dreams began Or ended in this place? Ghosts of the past arise Echoing across time and space And who will come after me And stand here late one night And find peace in the silence In the glow of the ghostlight? For those of you who don't know, the ghostlight is a plain bulb on a stand that is put on the middle of the stage when the theatre closes so the people who open i the morning can see where they are going. It burns all night. |