Harvest

Harvest

You are invited,
nay commanded
to the starring role.
Come as you are.
You are the main attraction,
you are the V.I.P.

Yours was the flashing light,
the penetrating siren overture,
the abandoned kiss of life.

Even now the props are being prepared,
dates confirmed with minor players,
invitations written,
box last-lacquered,
handles polished,
name embossed.

Soon,
shouldered like a football hero
at some final final,
you will go alone
to drink the fire
when the curtain closes.