Globe*

Stand still
And stretch out your arms
To feel the silken skirts of countless days gone by
Each performance has left an image
An impression
That is almost tangible
One moment you are alone
But when you close your eyes
And the world disappears
That is when the ghosts creep
Shimmer onto the platform
Whisper round you
With verses long recited
Jokes long told
Only you can feel them
Blind to the empty stands
You hear an invisible audience rustle
The air is charged with anticipation
Of the first word
You wait, and listen to the old new world that is
The stage