Window Blinds

By John I. Blair

Every day at half past six
I put on a one-act play
For any neighbor
Up and watching
At that early hour.

Behind my window
They will see
Venetian blinds
First slowly tilt
Then quickly rise.

Within this stage
Each tableau holds
Dramatic action,
Each performance
Unfolds a murky plot.

I stay in shadow,
Costume parts not matching,
Expression quite inscrutable,
And may not face the audience
Or make a telling gesture.

And yet each piece
Is well worth catching
For they hint at my hidden life
And may be all
I will reveal so candidly.

©2004 John I. Blair