A Star Is Born

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The sun has ascended to
the height of this ironically
apropos Sunday, pouring down
not its graces, but relentless
white beams of heat and staggers
upon we roadside travelers.
Beside me, the cloud-free storm
sifts through the trees in their
summer costumes. The slightest breeze
cues the branches to shimmy,
transforming the blinding spotlight
into kaleidoscopic drops that dance
with the wind on this stage.
From the wings, a fawn wanders
downstage in a costume of
variegated daytime, turning
from understudy to headliner,
now outlined in sparkling grand jeté
upon the green marquee at
the corner of my eye.

Kinda saw this scene while driving this afternoon. However, didn’t hear the new star give her name so it could’ve been Esther Blodgett, Vicki Lester or Mrs. Norman Maine.  Don’t mind my cinematic rambling. The sun and heat have gotten to me.

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Shadow Play

Behind the pink scrim, shadow play performers gesture about the stage in indistinct silhouette to woodwind accompaniment and the plucked bass string of my pulse.

Here and there, flashes of halos bounce against the screen, but instead of blinking I open the curtains.

Before me I see lakeside willows waving and the glaring pitter-pat of the Star’s face upon that shattered mirror of water.

It falls warm upon my cheek like your touch, and I can’t help but close my eyes again.

“What are you smiling at,” you say, as I lean back, humming the score of Nature’s Ombre chinoise.

Here is a 100-word, Five Sentence Fiction drabble prose poem that I am sharing with Lillie McFerrin’s troops (Prompt: SUNSHINE) and with my friend Victoria C. Slotto’s call at dVerse today for and Object Poem, where we look at something quite ordinary, but in a different way. Hope I haven’t jumped too far from their requests…these pain meds and all.