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waiting
gazing from the darkness
just beyond the light
all dressed up
the toes know the routine
and champ to break
the gossamer bonds of
this chrysalis, this woven
proscenium wall that
looks out upon the world
wings sprout
limbs are lithe, tenuous
floating with hidden strength
fleeting as youth
body conforms to the
clock’s rhythm, keeping time
in disciplined check
until age
puts out the damn spot
granting release from the
well rehearsed prison
of the stage
J.D. Harms put out a prompt recently on the stage:
