So it is.
And here am I.
Spotlight on me, solo turn
High above the rapt audience standing below.
I know what should happen next,
I’ve rehearsed it enough.
In my mind.
But I’m frozen in time.
Stage fright? Maybe.
There is a voice stage left
But I am deaf to its words.
Wrong script, wrong time, wrong cue?
Possibly.
I stand up. Look around. And fall.
I don’t recall any applause.
Just the onlookers’ concerted groan,
A single cry, my own.
Exiting the stage, my life.