A tempest cracked on the theatre. Quickly, The wind beat in the roof and half the walls. The ruin stood still in an external world. It had been real. It was something overseas That I remembered, something that I remembered Overseas, that stood in an external world. It had been real. It was not now. The rip Of the wind and the glittering were real now, In the spectacle of a new reality. II The people sat in the theatre, in the ruin, As if nothing had happened. The dim actor spoke. His hands became his feelings. His thick shape Issued thin seconds glibly gapering. Then faintly encrusted, a tissue of the moon Walked toward him on the stage and they embraced. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FLOWER BOAT by ROBERT FROST ATELIER CEZANNE by CLARENCE MAJOR DOMESDAY BOOK: FATHER WHIMSETT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS VARIATIONS ON A THEME: ROMANCE by EDITH SITWELL ALIEN WOMEN; SONGKHLA, THAILAND by KAREN SWENSON |