A Poem for a Thursday #177

I didn’t find a lot of information about today’s poet. Robyn Sarah is a Canadian poet and short story writer. She has taught English literature at Champlain Regional College and won a CBC Literary Award for poetry in 1990.

It is possible that things will not get better
than they are now, or have been known to be.
It is possible that we are past the middle now.
It is possible that we have crossed the great water
without knowing it, and stand now on the other side.
Yes:  I think that we have crossed it. Now
we are being given tickets, and they are not
tickets to the show we had been thinking of,
but to a different show, clearly inferior.

Check again:  it is our own name on the envelope.
The tickets are to that other show.

It is possible that we will walk out of the darkened hall
without waiting for the last act:  people do.
Some people do. But it is probable
that we will stay seated in our narrow seats
all through the tedious dénouement
to the surprising end--riveted, as it were;
spellbound by our own imperfect lives
because they are lives,
and because they are ours. 

Riveted
Robyn Sarah