The lights cut out as dusk fell
on rehearsal in the handsome room
in the northern capital city.
The king paused in his rant
and we waited lifting blinds
to let the leaden daylight seep
past sleet on dirty window panes,
shadowless actors hunted candles,
music-makers squatted, sang,
we kept our cloaks and crowns of flowers,
joy subdued the darkness of the day,
the city, the dark night of the play.
©Terry Hodgson2020
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