The gymnasium bursts--
Tiered gardens sprout black and blue buds
(Youth is full of sport)
Crackles and giggles and glee punctuate the buzz of the mic
(Youth is nimble)
Claps and stomps and cheers celebrate already fading glories
(Youth is hot and bold)
Sweet songs of goodbyes herald new beginnings
(Youth is wild)
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow . . .
Out, out, brief candle!
(She dons a black dress and colors her delicate face)
Life's but a walking shadow,
(Her countenance shudders as the door creaks, black heels stretching to meet the asphalt below)
a poor player,
(Her legs carry her forward with automation, countless cars cascading in all directions)
that struts and frets this hour upon the stage,
(Her eyes steel, set upon the structure ahead: stark, white spire shooting into the vast blue)
and then is heard no more.