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)