Festival Glare


Burnished pashminas draped over black shoulders

moving about in military precision

Clicks and counters collected at door

a flutter of eager listeners shuffle in

They wait…

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.