Jackal on My Grave

   Fall’s curtain descends too soon.
In the middle
Of the third act
The lights dim.
Darkness hides
A good actor
In a bad play
Smothering his final words
He bows.
Expecting no roses
No standing cheers
No encore
No bravo
In early dark
Shadows dancing
Way too early
Mistress of light
Will have her way.
To dance in the yard
Like a jackal on my grave.

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.