Proscenium Panther by Stewart Stafford
The actor missed his line,
Whispers from the wings,
Deafening silence hanging,
Another cue came briskly.
A pregnant pause of years,
The frozen player’s lips moved,
Offstage, a mock post-mortem,
The thespian grinned impishly.
After the audience’s first line laugh,
He racked his brain for more jokes,
Flouting the text and all the cast,
O, limelight, of hot-headed hydras.
© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved
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