The lights dim
The darkness welcomes
The flicker
On the screen
I sit on the edge
Of my seat
The anticipation
Like the small boy
Who cherished the hours
In the old Lido
Still mesmerized
By the stories
On the silver wall
No longer Gene Autry
Good and evil
Simple as the black and white
Hats the actors wore
Telegraphing their moral code
The challenge more taxing
Now the plot
More involved
Challenging me to dig
To find my own truths
In the dialogue
The strength and weaknesses
Of the character
their imperfection more apparent
Making it hard
To label heroes and villains
When the movie ends
And the house lights
Come up
I like to carry
From the theater
Questions to discuss
And to debate
With friends
Who share the experience
Like voyeurs
Who peeped
In the director’s window
