The Show Goes On
by Mike Blake
How often the uncertain man surfaces in the cold night
Huddled with his ceaseless questions,
Any answering voice that of Reason
From the wings on that inner stage
A private call and response,
The typical drama in the dark
Driven by his nerves,
Without the need for lights or audience.
Indeed, the curtain has never risen
On these frequent
Often frustrating
Performances.
The theme, invariably: the isolated man.
He gropes and twists and turns and .
Though he’s grateful for its darkness
The night lies long and heavy,
A partner, with no promise of sleep.