She saunters on stage with lighters raised for her,
A soft encore following a loud performer.
With a gown for each night worn in the same order,
Taking time from us as we gain it back from her.
She’s like a lighthouse slowly spinning a message,
Building her glow until it becomes vestige.
A queen of precision every time she’s been tested,
And saunters off stage in her own way and own exit.
~Poet of Ephraim