Stage Manager

Happy, I guess, but dressed in black,
A string of ash upon a lighted ledge,
And bright white eyes upon your back
Stare vacantly onto the stage.

I watch you now – shadowed motions,
A dancing silhouette against the backdrop,
A small, single body pushing this prop and
That into its place.

I sit far back in my own place,
One pair of eyes in the blinding darkness,
I see a redness flood your face,
Meeting at the estuary of your cheeks,
I see you, only you, stark and less
Distant than before -

For you raised your head and looked into
An audience of strangers,
Those gathered there,
Looked right at them, unaware,
I tried so hard to meet that stare.

The actors are rushing to take their places,
No credit for your workings in the background,
See? We are both nameless faces, unknowns,
Echoes that ring without sound.

This show must end soon –
We will stand and cheer, applaud the crew,
A thousand bodies clap in the darkness -
You don’t know me but I know you.