Just near the rear door of a theater,
The play of light through the leaves
Creates a starry universe on paint-dappled stage padding.
The fates, as multifarious as the alignments of the stars,
Frame the future.
How quickly youth passes one by,
How uneven is the path that time takes to the future,
Nobody can walk it without getting a few scars along the way.
So, what is it about this dark theater padding,
That keeps so many young people fired with imagination?