The scene

The faces inside are still going green for a scene,
Yesterday’s thinking up a scene for a tiny poem.

Today there is prompter who is light and awake.
I think up a slightly larger scene off green room.

A world seems coming out in a few greenhorns
Who move eyes and bushy brows up and down.

I click tongue hard and give meaningless shrug
To keep the poem lean ,mean and green scene.

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