A Sunset In Fragments Poem by Saad Ahmed Shaikh

You see shapes, silhouettes, sagas;
I see a dying art.
As my fingers weave chronicles on the curtain,
Your appreciative nods hearten me--
But only for a moment.
For I know once the show is over,
You shall forget all about me,
For isn't this something you used to do as a child?
I am that same child-- who grew to make a living
Out of a pastime indulged amidst candlelight.
And as you depart for the other attractions,
The life from my art, too, leaves in fragments,
Scraping back empty chairs,
Leaving behind ghosts of applause.

And I am left alone with tales to render
For the next round,
Wondering if it would be the last.
The ghosts, the flickering lights, the very air around here,
Could tell you a story more telling than my happy retellings,
If only you'd stop for a closer look.
But you, blameless you,
Aren't here for foregone tales of long gone times.
You, untroubled you,
Are here for my shadow mimes.