“All the world’s a stage
and all the men and women merely players…”
(W. Shakespeare: As You Like It. II. vii.)
The last scene… last act… The curtain falls…
Lights off… Empty, dark, deserted stage…
No more applause… No more curtain-calls…
The play is no longer front-page.
Tears and smiles the audience forget
Out on the cold streets, on the way home…
Stage door closes behind the soubrette,
Darkness resides in the hippodrome.
With laboured, slow steps the old actor
Walks in the rain, musing ‘bout the past…
Tomorrow… new play, from new author,
Will be presented with a new cast…
© P. J. Oszmann (2004) Illustration: Photomontage + Cartoon (2004)
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This is one for my library..
*Linda*
nice to see you again--this one is powerfully written
gives new meaning to parting is such sweet sorrow--BRAVO!
(((HUGS))) and love, karla. :(
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in america, karen lynn in texas. :D
I felt the actor's sorrow. Well penned. Lisa