Rag-tag players fill the stage: five women
in black wear colorful aprons that become
Duke’s capes that become old-lady shawls
that become bridal gowns as the hapless
Roderigo marries his Lady Love and Archer
weds the Oldest Sister. Banal beige benches
become church pews, tree stumps, fine silk
upholstered chairs in the palace. Their voices,
music; movements, ballet. We sit in stillness.
No longer rag-tag, these players are magnificent
pied pipers leading us into the Sherwood Forest
to hide in a log cabin eluding monsters, stroll
over the bridged moat into the castle where
the King welcomes all to feast, join bejeweled
dancers amongst lutes and flutes. Like twilight
sealing the best winter’s day, the theatre darkens,
then brightens like a clear sunny morn as we eke
out, sad to leave, glad to be part of the dream.
© 2022 Diana Rosen
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