Final Act

by Ingrid Prohaska


His eyes were closed
he couldn't see her beauty
His ears were plugged
he couldn't hear her melody

"La Blanchisseuse"
Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec

His wings were clipped
he couldn't join her dreams
He hurt himself
and so he hurt her
he damned himself to a mediocre life

She opened her eyes
and had to see
that she filled her love in holey bags
She unplugged her ears
and had to hear
shallow rehearsed phrases
She healed her clipped wings
was ready to fly
but going to drown in her own tears

With her last entry
she had her exit to the right
silently she closed the door

Time for the final curtain

She let him in the spotlight
with the applause of the crowd

Copyright © 2011 Ingrid Prohaska


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