Touching Visible Stage
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I was dead
in the third act
of Our Town,
sitting on the stage
in a straight-backed
chair, staring at the
clock in the back
of the auditorium.
I could hear grown men
sniffling as Emily
relived her twelfth
birthday. I couldn’t
see her reliving it
since I was dead.
I could talk, though,
and warned her
not to go back,
to just accept
her deadness.
But she wouldn’t listen.
Her past was still
so visible to her.
After the curtain call,
I went parking
with my boyfriend
but just couldn’t get
into all the kissing
and touching
he was so intent upon.
Every time I closed
my eyes, I’d see
that clock in the back
of the auditorium,
hands moving
inexorably toward
death.
17 comments:
Wonderful.
Not because it reminded me of seeing Our Town a long time ago, but because of the meaningful personal details you wove into this.
I concur!
this was just beautiful.
Oh, and it does! Nifty poem!
That last stanza was a wonderful ending. Well done!
It must have been wonderful to play that part!
great poem!
lovely delicious and dark... you had to know i would love this one.......
Ooooh, that's eerie!
Somehow haunting, but beautiful.
that last line definitely did it for me.
Nothing for me to say!
green-eyed monster
Loved the finality conveyed in the closing lines .
Great poem .
I was wondering if I could interest you in a poem I wrote about a 39 year old who suffered from cancer. It isn't for any prompt .
http://la-muse07.blogspot.com/2008/04/life-in-hurry.html
Very well done this Linda, it really touched me.
I've never seen 'Our Town' but this was riveting stuff.
the mix of theatrical play and rawness of reality (the overly eager boyfriend) was a real treat in this intrepid poem!
Nice :)
This one is good.
oh, i love how you illustrate
the thoughts inside the head
of the actor, and how she just
can't let go...
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