All The World

Shakespeare took poetry to the stage
And left her there
Singing songs
In the fire of footlight candles

The stars, in the open air overhead
Danced
To be immortalized in words
With Kings and Queens
Vagabonds and fools
Stories to bard the ancient tongue

Now she bows to the curtain of another age
The taunts and jeers of a coarser crowd
The wisp of her hand still drawn upon the air
in graciousness
Her gown retreating to the shadows of the wings

The stillness lingers in an empty house
When all have left, the play is done
But in the darkness, a presence
The corner by the window
The starlight peering in

Listening
A dream held in wait
Till she return.

(Previously published in American Muse, Summer 2001, Issue 3)

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