Waiting for the Director

the cinematographer was measuring the light
on the cafe set, with the stand-ins having a chat,
just as the characters soon would be

she would occasionally look over his shoulder,
a slight motion that annoyed the cinematographer,
so he gave her that look, which she did not see,
her gaze through the window, to outside,
where she hoped she would see her boyfriend
amongst the passers-by, who were strolling
past the book-shop, oblivious to the clutch
of cast and crew inside, waiting for the director

he wanted to move, to block her view,
but he knew the cinematographer would bark at him
if he did, so he sat still, smitten with her,
wishing someone would script his life, to have her
fall in love with him, while he could only imagine
an accident, a jostle, to get her to notice him,
but he feared he would botch it, the comic relief
instead of the romantic lead, so he sat
very still and waited for her to speak again

when the director and actors arrived on set,
the cinematographer moved behind the camera
to capture the scene, not seeing the drama
that was beginning to unfold right before him

/ / /

This poem was written in response to Wordle 23 a la Viv at The Sunday Whirl.