Day at the Theatre

Dolly-mixture turquoise
blue gown, loose ties, open back.
Unbecoming but I wear it well
glad they offer no mirror.
I breeze a dry
joke or two as they
prepare me.

Hidden behind crisp folds
hands ice with terror.
Feet swaddled in flight socks,
thoughts constrict
like the cuff of a sphygmomanometer:
or the tight-furled fronds of
winter fern.
Infantile extremities all my world.

Emerged through mists of fading fears,
I clearly hear my name
curtain call

or accolade
the reassurance of a hand
that first blessed sip
from a cup.