One exciting night was when we put on

Peter", a one-act play I wrote, in town.

See me by the backstage window, prompting,

Now while the play is going on out front,

Put there where you are. See, I hold the book,

Ready to give Jan his line. I'm shaking,

Maybe, with excitement, but who wouldn't?

To hear the words you wrote coming to life

And moving on the stage, and then to be

Behind the curtain, Author and Prompter,

Hoping your tremble won't shake the velvet:

That's something.

And it's more than just outside

When overhead a small balloon, anchored

To earth, as even one-act plays must be,

Is lit from below like another world,

A world comes nearer, too near. All the traffic

Shrieks a greeting in amazement, or else

Fears it, which is hard to tell. And near by

The chimes are ringing from a church.

"Peter!

I'm glad you've come, I've got to talk." Bells, bells..

This is a dream, Sandra,"..a chime of bells,

A pattern of blades criss-crossed in the dark.

Now Sandra's line, "I used to dream like this."

Jan's waiting off-stage right. One page to go.

Now Peter, "It's a lonely thing to do, "

And the bells ring out full. "Remember me.

You are waking now. Remember"...Curtain.

Applause. Bells. Light, lights. The play is over.