Burnished pashminas draped over black shoulders
moving about in military precision
Clicks and counters collected at door
a flutter of eager listeners shuffle in
until there, in spotlight glow, sits the prize.
Words tumble out into creative quotations
appreciation thunders into applause in steady rhythm.
No jeers or jibes
No questions of authenticity,
for to sit is to “BE”
Yet, highs and lows dance about the room
u n s e e n
as one rises and sinks with every sigh.
Assurances trickle down in given phrases
but slogging is the path laid bare to tred.
In the breeze of the airy show
a pause and hope takes filmy flight,
a bucket-list-worthy reach gains momentum,
and in quiet contemplation…
The Dream is restored.
Paula Antonello Moore, Prose. Copyright: Sunday, October 2, 2016
Image: Two Chairs and Microphone by Steven Depolo.