The River Theatre

The summer sky is serenaded by
Skyscraping tenors accompanied by
Guitars of transmission lines.
The murky water is humming along
While scavengers dance against the current,
Looking for grace during soft interludes.

The spectators and critics on the balcony
Toss dead roses and rotten tomatoes
Packed in plastic bags of many tints,
While scavengers below cried hurray in a hurry
And tip-toed like ballet dancers
Towards the spots where the spoils beat the drums.
Gliding with grace, looking for grace.

The curtains started rolling in gradually,
Bringing tears from the summer sky
Greatly moved by the astounding performance —
Outstanding and forever lingering.
The props decided to remain
But scavengers scampered quick, exeunt!
Those fine thespians gave each other high-fives.

Whenever the sun and the moon meet
Between the matinee and the gala,
The first thing they ask each other would be,
"By any chance, know you the playwright?"