Scenes of the Stage
The stage cuts the far wall,
recessing back into the depths
of velvet sapphire curtains
staring back at me.
Plaster columns
frame the stage
like the pillars of Karnak,
shedding their painted skins
like ancient snakes.
Bathed in the glow
of twelve lights,
the wooden floor
is etched like glass,
bearing the unforgiving scars
of furniture and footsteps.
Alone in the dark,
the ghost light
warms center stage
like a heart
always beating.
Behind the main curtain,
gaff tape secures running lights
illuminating the restless belly
of the stage.
Lights rigged on the rafters
perch like pigeons
on power lines.
The stage is recumbent
between shows,
with wooden platform flats strewn
like butter pats across the floor,
gathering dust in the eye
of an idle spotlight.
Upstage, chairs are scattered like chess pawns
where the stagecraft class will learn
what it means to work behind the scenes
of the living stage.