Beads scattered
under a ballerina's
gentle feet
make her fall
towards the waiting,
horrified stage
the sound of gasps
fill the cool night air
and the moment
she'd been waiting for
she now realized,
would never come,
could never come.
The crowd waits
to see if,
somehow,
she can get back up
and gather the beads,
and begin again
she sits there waiting
her hair spread about her
eyes not yet crying
will the curtain go down?
or like the saying,
must the show really go on?
