These Long Days
I’ve introduced myself to these long days
By calling an encore on the night.
With careful work at setting the lights,
A midday search
For the artefacts of worth
Has led me through that curtained little backstage place.
My small audience sees the fluttered drape.
And now
I’ve walked out into these full days
By pushing on an unmarked door.
It was swollen stuck against the floor,
It’s damp age
Beholden to the craze
Of the movements and exhaustions of too many fronts.
The sound of its shutting behind me is blunt.
Andy Havens 