Poem For Improv (4)
The spotlight flickers, the stage comes alive,
Threads of the moment begin to thrive.
A breath escapes, trembling, unsure,
Until someone shouts, “Who ordered manure?”
From lethargy’s depths to sudden spark,
Laughter erupts as shadows embark.
Twists unfold, unplanned, unsaid,
“Did that chicken just come back from the dead?”
But beneath the laughs, a pulse beats clear,
A flicker of courage, facing their fear.
The fear of failure, the unknown ahead,
Yet through it all, they stand instead.
Yes, And—the mantra that dares to begin,
A sanctuary for what’s buried within.
Visitors lean in, their walls start to break,
Sharing the risks these performers take.
Where laughter hides tears, and smiles disguise,
The beauty of trying, of human ties.
Awkward jokes land, or they stumble and fall,
But isn’t that the essence of us all?
Where worlds collide, unseen paths take flight,
Finding strength in the chaos, forging light.
Not polished or perfect, raw and unshown,
Improv mirrors life—unfinished, alone.
