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??