Y o u Never See Backstage.
Who holds the ropes
That tug the pulleyed sky?
Who drapes the blinds of night
O’er blinking lamp of day?
They, with black-out eventide,
Down cross dusked light,
Bringing scene-changed actors back;
To curtain call of spotlight moon.
Much more than stagehand turnaround,
More than cued-up interlude,
More indeed than men can comprehend.
Who masterminds this sunset show?
This finely tuned performances -
Before a thousand billion heartfelt bows
I need to tell them how I feel,
Who are they? Do you know?
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