On Stage

1

Oh sun, you play with me

yet this is not a dance

this much nakedness

almost blood

for some wild forest;

then—

2

Gongs were heard

and messengers came;

I didn’t expect them

and their voices forgotten;

rested, freshly attired

holding baskets of fruit.

I admired and whispered:

‘I like these amphitheaters.’

The conch was at once filled

and on stage the light was dimmed

as though for some well known murder.

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