A sea of pink,
A sea of red,
A glowing blue
About my head.
Our instruments
Color of skin,
Below the lights,
Flowers fall in.
A sea of faces,
Of many shades.
A sea of sound,
As others play.
A trapeze act,
A flying duck,
A dancing horse,
Tumble and tuck.
A woman green,
Who smiles dearly.
Does this show
Happen a-yearly?
Up in the small
Matinee there
Rapunzel let’s
Down her long hair.
The glowing sun,
Is it false light?
Not knowing if
Outside is night.
The feeling of
A sea of clapping.
O wait I hear
A watcher yapping.
The cello shares
The sea of strings,
With all of these
Performance things.
Blended colors,
Of every shape.
A pair present
Their flowing cape.
Spinning fast,
Or spinning slow.
Where do you think
The spinners go?
All blue crowns
Surround me now.
A sea of people.
Take a bow.
Our blue pants,
Match his shirt.
My pink dress
Points stage left.
Your red shirt
Points stage right.
Are they expecting
Us to fight?
(Chagall’s Ecuyère au cirque ensoleillé , 1980)