Waiting for the Base Movie

by Woody Long

In copper skies the beaten sun lies down,
the bugle by the palms calls out retreat,
the lamps light up along the sandy street,
the desert dark advances from the town.

Bats flit above in chase of gnats and flies,
below, in peaceful line, we wait outside
the theater, for its cool and dark inside,
its show of pretty technicolor lies.

At least that’s what I see as I look back
across a half a hundred years or so,
dim yellow lights against the desert black,
all of us plain, and pleasantly aglow,
expecting vibrant scenes of tears and smiles,
in ignorance of all the years and miles.

Woody Long is retired and lives in Arlington, Virginia.
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Pat Jones
Published October 3 2010