Winter Matinee
There is an "until" silence
about the place.
Trees watch and wait,
stiffly chilled spectators
circle the theatre on Twin Lake.
Smoke curls from a front row fire
like dollar cigar fumes trailing
toward the breathless balcony.
One star, center stage, twirls absently,
absorbed in perfect motion.
I am awed by her obvious devotion and
think grace in the wings.
Trees watch and wait.
Below my skates their brown leaves
hang in suspense among the atoms,
as if in cryogenic fashion to contemplate ...
People who bend and sway
beneath the sky with shiny blades.
Scribbling equations, eight plus eight, and
daring invasions of fields now thick
with the long bent sticks of those
who must have a goal.
Padded people skimming the lake
toward invisible net and pole.
People who aimlessly spin or
glide with the wind
too far beyond the fold.
All manner of human
nature portrayed for trees
and brown leaves to behold ... until.
by Reggie Morrisey (Circa 1980)
Originally published in Westchester magazine (1981)
Second Snow, a pastel by Vincent Mancuso