Fade to Black

The time he missed his cue,
so caught up in a story with
the others, just relaxing in
the green room, that he never made
his entrance, leaving Captain Keller
and myself to cover for his lines,
I teased him but he never got
defensive, knew he'd blown the scene
and knew it didn't really matter in
the bigger scheme of things. He never
lost his cool, not that I ever saw,
and now he's gone, the final exit,
one cue that I wish he'd missed
but also sensing, as his daughter
said,  he knew deep down he'd leave
us early, packing in a dozen lifetimes
into one. Adoring audience tonight.
The ham in him would have to be so
pleased that every seat was taken,
throngs of people standing
there along the edges and the back,
the piper playing sweet, sad music
as the swordsmen gave a last salute,
and far offstage, a fade to black,
awakening to brighter light than
any follow spot he could imagine,
brighter than his love and smile,
and that is saying (if you knew him)
quite a lot.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2015