He’d told me
The theater would close
As if knowing deep down
I was thinking
Of the times spent there
Back in high school
Watching those films
Dreaming big,

Since perhaps one day
They would see them –

Our names up there
Leaving meaning,

Through legacies shot
On wide lenses
Like celluloid prayers
Burnt to ash

After years spent now
Losing faith
Feeling all of us
Gradually light it –

The match which flamed
Ever brighter
With each passing year
Making sparks.

No hope could quell
Raging fire
From wasted youth
Kindling embers
When passionate kids
Never notice
Adulthood chars
Fragile reels –

These smoldering scenes
Missing footage,

And colorful acts
Fading quickly,

Into sepia thoughts
Recollected
Through Hollywood dreams
We still watch.

Perhaps in death
There are cinemas
Where doors like hearts
Remain open,

Letting management
Draw every curtain
For creative souls
Left behind –

Rewinding this past
Barely savored
But acted so well
While things linger,

Having friends take seats
As an audience
Together again
Being home.

I’m always just
Late to the movie,

Minutes before
Trailers finish,

Viewing previews
Flashing their glimpses
Much how life
Teases joy.

• J. Pigno