A elaborate round trip
with stage money and
a piping voice that shuffles
in and out of our front and
back doors.

yes this is our viennese waltz,
with clowns, kings, jesters, and
a full moon with plans of its own.

the scene changes, the puppets
stand up and go, in walks light,
this light we call hope.

david gerardino

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/stage-money/