No Curtain Call


Sometimes in the cold depth of winter when hibernating among my library books and newest Netflix obsession is the norm, there are moments of doubt that creep in. At the end of a chapter or the 10 seconds before next episode automatically starts to play, the draft you’ve been trying to keep out from your cozy warm burrow belly flops into your mind, bringing with it self-doubt and uncertainty about where you find yourself in life.

I’d like to say that I’m writing this having shook it off with Taylor and feel confident in all of the life choices I need to make, but I haven’t. I have, however, made a start and feel that even the teeniest bit of progress gives me areas I want my life to focus on – with my passion for literature and poetry being at the top of the list, followed by education, mental health, and yoga and meditation having slotted themselves in there after my continuous journey with Adriene. How I’ll knit all of these passions together, I don’t know or even whether I need to. Maybe I can have a beautiful 4 piece hand crafted winter set? Who knows!

For now, I’m going to keep writing and putting myself out there to keep that love of mine ignited. Here’s a poem I wrote at the weekend inspired by the feelings I’ve described above. Hope you enjoy:


No Curtain Call

Rushing around the open packing boxes,

half filled,

of useless knick-knacks and the lines learned in year 11 drama

surrounded by






next to the wardrobe of fine silken fantasies


Running from box to box I find them half filled

forcing me to race

to the next

to the next

spilled open across the floor – like grains of sand,


into the cracks of the floorboards

and the pockets of my Levi’s


Each room, a partially dismantled set,

only hung for it’s short week long run, sans matinee,

is ready for the men in black to stealthily remove all traces of this era

The escort for the props arrives

screeching dramatically to a halt

bulbs brightened,

sign lurid

announcing the headline act –

but before the grand reveal, the curtain call

every item must be



and stored away

readied for the next stop

where the boxes will remain



and books will keep the walls from falling down


And still, no reveal

No grand curtain call

Just the boxes, and the books.


© LE Purse

2nd July 2017


Photo credits: Eastman Theatre and Reading Under Blankets

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