Faint rain paints a scene like an old movie screen.
I stare in half expecting the lights to dim.
So I sit, and watch scenes play out on a whim.
I’ve been the star in shows played out times ago.
But others’ whispers grew louder around me,
and recited lines were sweet things to believe.
Maybe that is how I missed your sudden twist.
A bitter ending is better offending,
spoon feeding feelings to those who come lacking.
Fade once more as credits roll to open doors.
Eyes brighten to lightning spotlighting the rain,
even though we timed right, we thought, to evade.
Talk weather, whether it’s bound to get better.
But it’s clear to us now the time passed has dried,
what was once playing out between you and I.
I linger perhaps to preview the show next.
Tragedy tore out so much in me, it seemed
a shame to leave without redemptive comedy.
Faint rain paints only for me another scene.
Lights dim down as I dart searching for my seat.