Behind the Applause

I watch you stand beneath the harsh light,

script clutched like a shield in small hands.

Your voice clear, unshaken,

a river flowing fast.

And I hold a knot tight inside,

fear twisting the quiet air.

What if you fly past the edges

where I can’t reach?

You’re folding words into the future,

a crumpled script becoming wings.

And I am afraid of the space

between the sound and the silence.