Daily Encore
Rain-grey days are the worst
for his presentation.
Weather's distraction
steals his thoughts
as it stills his soul.
Most days the others ignore
him, busy with their own
productions.
He is the only one who reads,
the others seem to sit and speak softly
to a polite and punctual
audience.
So he writes daily:
terse exclamations of love,
heated arguments with angels
and demons,
and even sad love songs,
but he never sings.
He only reads
with a broken voice
that mirrors his heart.
He's alone today with her
and she's ignoring him
as he finishes his latest work,
"...in eternity, love's a constant."
Silence, the passive killer of hope,
the enemy of every performer, ensues
as he folds the paper and tucks
it into his coat.
The rain taps lightly about his feet
as he kneels and kisses
the cold granite headstone
of the only true fan
he ever had.
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