Curtain Call

You ready? Let’s go
hook up, hat up, head out
dressed to dance, slippered
Come on, please, it’s time.

The stage is open, don’t
ask which one, surf’s up
worry not twists and turns
falling into a cistern.

But the cold is coming
and some future thought
we should have stayed
home in this drought.

How will we have gone –
ate, slept, flown and drove?
So, we didn’t go?
No, we never went.

And we are still standing
water’s edge, last to go?
To think of going, it’s all
so abstract, hold still.

No curtain call, no clapped
hands, no taking the hill,
maybe were we mere players
and this not a real visit.