The Storyteller

Right before intermission,
After a long story about a land
Where people sold their dreams
To a company that made movies
Out of their dreams that the people
Spent all their money to watch,

He began to tell a scary story.
We were all too scared to move.
His words alarmed us.
Our hair stood on end.
One woman’s hair stood up
Halfway to the ceiling.

Suddenly he fell silent and looked contrite
And thoughtful.
He said:
When my wife and I got married
We were very poor.
We got married in our house.

We couldn’t afford a musician,
But we wanted a song
That would express our joy
And our love, so we decided
To ask everyone to sing
The only song we could think of that everyone knew.

Now, if you will indulge me,
We will sing that song together.
And then there will be an intermission.
Then he started to softly sing,
Row, row, row your boat
Gently down the stream,

Life is but a dream.
And after a few rounds

With everyone singing softly
And sweetly,
Imagining the storyteller and his wife
At their wedding,
It became all about rowing and rowing and rowing
Down the stream of our lives,

While far away,
We could just make out the storyteller’s voice
Faintly repeating,
Row, row, row,
Row, row, row,
Row, row, row. . .