Image for the poem A Night at the Improv

A Night at the Improv

In the dimly lit embrace of evening's stage,
A solitary microphone awaits—no script, no page.
Here, where shadows and light conspire to dance,
A single figure steps forth, seizing chance.

With a jest, the room ignites, laughter shared,
A communion of spirits, momentarily paired.
The comedian, a weaver of words, draws from the air
Tales not written, but born from the dare.

In the laughter, a depth, a resonance felt,
A connection to earth, to the lives we've dwelt.
Each chuckle, a ripple across the room's sea,
Uniting strangers in a moment's glee.

Interaction sparks brighter flames, laughter renewed,
An invisible thread through the crowd, subtly viewed.
A glance, a word, a shared memory’s cue,
In this space, our common humanity comes through.

The art of the moment, an improvised path,
Finds humor in the mundane, a warm, gentle bath.
Yet beneath the surface, a rich tapestry lies,
The laughter a cover for the wisdom it belies.

As the night unfolds, each laugh a beacon bright,
Illuminating connections, casting out the night.
Here, in the spontaneous exchange, a truth is found,
In our laughter, our shared human ground.

When the lights dim, and the laughter fades to a sigh,
The warmth of the shared jest refuses to die.
For in those moments of laughter, a bridge was built,
Across divides, with humor and without guilt.

So, we depart into the night, richer than before,
Carrying the laughter, a treasure to store.
In the improv of life, we find our script anew,
Crafted in moments of joy, honest and true.
Written by Heisenberg68
Author's Note
For the poetry contest about laughter.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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