All's Well that Ends Well

It is so rarely done, That is why we are here, The heroine, true sun To our dark selfish day Longs only for one man, Wins him. He runs away. We know that by the end She tricks him back to keep, So worry, like a friend, If new betrayals will creep - Ah, good, the interval! We watch her curl, asleep Poor Helen, on the studio floor. Lights blink. She does not rise. We must pass to the door To icecream; taps; not tread Upon her clouds of hair. Actors must (like the dead) Leave quietly. We resent Her back's broad, awkward hunch. How can we laugh, dissent? It is so rarely done Since we so often meet - Our clean shoes dare not touch - Her sorrow at our feet. Alison Brackenbury

Zoe Caldwell as Helena. Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon Avon,1959

If you've any comments on this poem, Alison Brackenbury would be pleased to hear from you.
Her latest book is The story of Sigurd, a fine press limited signed edition of nine new poems, traditionally printed on mould-made paper, illustrated by a specially commissioned wood engraving by Jane Lydbury.  It is available at £32, including post and packing, from Gruffyground Press, Ladram, Sidcot, Winscombe, Somerset, BS25 1PW