"Drama- what literature does at night."

-George Jean

the dusty stage, black and solid
a blank slate, a canvas unpainted
ready for action, for dance, for soliloquy
reflecting the far-away spotlight's
glare

the spotlight's glare points
harsh and round- an artificial moon
trapped in character brightened
a sharp white island for all those sweat-stained
actors

sweat-stained actors, real and true
belting and bursting and whispering
in drama sprung to life unfolding
sparing their souls to the dark and anonymous
audience

anonymous, the audience sits
still and wide-eyed, poised to hear
to see to feel to absorb the performance
hearts spinning and pounding with the rhythm
of dancers

rhythm of dancers, clicked and tapped
turns, tendus, splits, leaps, bows
long-legged otherworldly bodies contorting
music and theatre- united in art performed on the
dusty stage