standing at the edge
at curtain call
full
relieved
exhausted
sweaty
content
I am lifted—
by the rhythmic acclamation
Connected hands hold me up,
we bow at last
—finale
the pounding applause roars
echoing in the theater—
a dome
acknowledging the journey we took
laughing at the funnies,
sighing at tiny romances,
crying for the heartaches
I stand at the edge—
bright lights fill my eyes,
almost blinding me
I catch a glimpse of the first few rows
smiling back; again, I bow; this time alone—
grateful
The heavy red curtain—velvet
lingers overhead briefly
before eloquently closing the night
closing the world where I spent exhausting hours as an artist
—spectacular.
then, exit stage left
—Finale
