"Did I change quickly enough?" Victoria asks anxiously after the play last night...and suddenly I find myself asking the same question as I try to keep up with Time's scene-changes. It's hard to keep fingers from trembling as we slip from one costume to the next.
While we’re still learning our lines
The Director turns the page
And rearranges the stage
To scripts and scenes untried
Her gaze never flinches as she
Unbuttons the skin we are in
And we fumble with the half-grin
Of Her constant chivalry
She is suave, brave and bold
As She purveys Her motley cast
Caught somewhere twixt Future and Past
In costumes of Growing Old
The cloth of Her moments shapes
Triumph and failure’s disguise
It is hard to recognize
Clowns in choir-capes
…where the roles of Her interplays
Are ever subject to change
As we stutter over strange
Sudden and unlearned ways
And while hearts struggle to adjust
To the New, the curtain rises
To an audience of surprises
Waiting on chairs of dust
© Janet Martin
Why Ain't It Always Summer?
Why Ain't It Always Summer?
