The EX IT sign in the Town Hall Theatre <br />was lit by gas. A smell you never quite forget. <br />It serves to pin the memories of those other times. <br /> <br />The sister of the junior mistress at the local school <br />was here to give her reading: 'Scenes from Shakespeare'; <br />whole scenes and all the characters. <br />Imagine. <br /> <br />But she had a very special voice. <br /> <br />Oh who can know <br />the where and when <br />that life may give its life to life <br />and give it full, and give it whole? <br /> <br />And who may know <br />how many years <br />before the fruits <br />burst in the soul? <br /> <br />Or what the lights <br />and where the sounds <br />and what they speak, <br />and where the whole? <br /> <br />The performance ended. <br />As the lights came on, <br />the audience were still for - seconds? - <br />as if they had forgotten they were not already at home; <br />then walked out into <br />the rainy darkness of the seaside town, <br />past the gaslit EXIT sign; <br />the sea a distant seethe and roar <br /> <br />and some were changed for life. <br /> <br />So, poetry. <br />.<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/0099-the-reading/
