(for Jen)
Hands tinged with greasepaint and sweaters wet from the dry ice machine, we watched our classmates strike pose for a standing ovation. At sixteen, I idolized your every move as you ran the show like a pro. After the final performance, we drove drinking and singing to the cast party, immersed in our one brief shining moment.
in lieu of flowers . . .
that tune I still whistle
every now and then