Watching the Credits Roll
After the closing lines are spoken,
the crowd snails its way from seats
back toward the mauve curtains.
You and I stay put in darkened seats,
listening to music. We ignore
the popcorn, candy wrappers,
cups on the floor. Our eyes,
waiting for the credits.
Names begin to roll, giving honor
to those who created the magic
of the night.
No one knows we sit and watch—
not one actor, makeup artist,
stunt man, cinematographer,
set-designer, script-writer.
We exit with full hearts,
finding ourselves in a parking lot
almost empty.
After the closing lines are spoken,
the crowd snails its way from seats
back toward the mauve curtains.
You and I stay put in darkened seats,
listening to music. We ignore
the popcorn, candy wrappers,
cups on the floor. Our eyes,
waiting for the credits.
Names begin to roll, giving honor
to those who created the magic
of the night.
No one knows we sit and watch—
not one actor, makeup artist,
stunt man, cinematographer,
set-designer, script-writer.
We exit with full hearts,
finding ourselves in a parking lot
almost empty.