An Actor Prepares

AN ACTOR PREPARES

In my mind is a room

From a forgotten garden.

The head keeper’s office

Has nothing beyond a mounted

Mahogany clock as old as time,

And an upright desk for ledgers.

This room has been locked for years.

The ink well is dry to touch.

A finger inside feels only the dust,

Leaving no stains on my skin –

Nothing to say I am here.

Somewhere there is a secret archive

Of all that happened here.

Images survive, perhaps,

When all witness is gone.

What is recorded lives on.

                 *

Her tokens are discarded at random,

Scattered in the room

Beyond the open window.

When she has left in the morning

Of her secret something remains.

All beauty is fabulous at first sight.

But later comes a second wave

That time cannot turn.

An actor prepares always

To live another life

So that others may realize

Their many selves,

And so disclose

The ways of being human

In gentle impulse

Or knowing desire.