I bounce in on day one

with a shaky leg,

eyes darting around the vast stage,

curtain to curtain,

scanning for familiar faces.

Leaping out of my seat,

knowing there is much to do.

I drag

myself in on audition day,

bearing my racing heart.

Today becomes

sprinting lines,

clammy palms,

clenched fists,

hot stage lights,

and a shaky leg.

I wander in for first reading,

new script in hand,

that’s just waiting to be covered

in doodles and rips.

There’s lots to learn, choppy lines

“She’s the lead! I knew it!”

And a shaky leg.

Final week

I zoom in,

and immediately sense

sweaty costumes,

stress,

regret,

impatience,

“Why did we wait to do this today?”

and my especially shaky leg.

Strutting in after final show

is celebrations, hugs,

screaming songs

at the top of our lungs,

one last round of inside jokes,

“Can’t we do one more show?”

and sauntering legs

leaving behind

a home

and a family.