In my seat in the still lit
Auditorium, I hear around me
Fragments of conversation
From others who have come
For this show: “I swore I’d
Never go back there,”
And
“I enjoyed seeing my
Grandchildren this past week,”
“I’m so excited that she
Got the part,”
And so on for five minutes,
A convivial hubbub permeates
The room, sounding like a
Wave gathering and ebbing
On a sandy shore.
The lights blink, once, twice, three times,
And those standing find their seats,
And conversations finish, women
Straighten in their seats, and men’
Look at their programs
One last time and
As the lights dim to darkness
Silence, creeps across these
Assembled souls
Awaiting song
Awaiting beauty
Awaiting a revelation
As the earlier sound
Diminishes past the point
Of hearing.
All is silent and then
Another kind of conversation
Begins.
Biscuit City 