Cricket-Stricken Night

I fight the glare of focus,
that beam I try to integrate,
the illuminating sun.

How naive a child to think
success could be repeated,
that feet could stick the landing
to rounds of sweet applause.

Aplomb abounds but bounds away,
easily frightened, brunette bombshell cut in half
and whistling through cricket-stricken night.

Now? Now I get stage fright??

No comments:

Post a Comment