Errands

I don’t remember much about the pantomime
My father left me at the matinee
Confident his young precocious son
Would be safe in the theatre
While he ran his errands

But the drama overwhelmed me
Seeing the hero in mortal peril
I began to cry
And the boy next to me
Perhaps twice my age
Held my hand and told me
Everything would be okay

I don’t remember who the hero was
Perhaps it was Aladdin, at the mercy of Abanazar
Perhaps it was Dick Wittington, perhaps it was Snow White
But I know that on that day
In the theatre, in the dark
I fell in love for the first time

Filed under: Writing