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Audition

Page 20

by Stasia Ward Kehoe


  Whispers of conversation slip

  Between the folds of the closing curtain.

  Simone and Madison release my hands,

  Relax their shoulders, unglue their grins.

  But I stand there a minute longer,

  Back straight, neck long,

  Left foot front, right foot crossed behind,

  Smiling at the streaked beige satin of the curtain lining,

  The echo of applause,

  The tickle of lace against my legs,

  The heat on my cheeks.

  I know,

  For Lisette, for Rem, this stage is a paradise found;

  For Bonnie, an altar at which she sacrifices.

  The curtain closed, the work lights come up.

  Stagehands sweep.

  Dancers rush to change into their next costumes.

  In my head, I choreograph a poem

  About reverence.

 

 

 


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