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Rehearsal Is Over (10:01pm)
In a small town where I spend my nights,
I find myself walking,
And it
Tastes
Like
Street lights shining, man-made stars, your eyes reflect and
Imitate luminescence, and cast watery reflections that only
Luna can see, her singular, round body is an
Eye, seeing all that you can not possibly anticipate, what's waiting in the shadows is
Nothing, and does not exist until it is imagined by you and only you, whatever
Creature may lurk, innocent or not, it speaks and the only sound to be heard is wind, and
Everything is exactly as it seems, because you are not Her, you are you on the cold ground.
And Peace and Fear
Reserve the same single room,
As usual.
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This article has 2 comments.
At this time I was in a play. Our rehearsals were in the lovely little town of Rochester, VT, and they got out late - sometimes as late as 10pm. This is kind of an ode to the beauty of that town at night combined with the feeling I was left with when rehearsal ended.