Skeleton Of Change
I heard an old friend sing her style.
She’s sung her style since ‘fifty-three.
I smile.
Identifiable,
She sounds as good as ever –
Red line running through,
The red line true,
Nuances never better,
Fresh, refined down to the letter.
Style pale yet never stale.
People queue.
Songs are new –
Different but the same.
There was a guy I used to see.
A heartthrob, prancing up and down
The stage and singing, dancing;
All the rage when he was thirty.
Thirty later TV years
He’s there – the same arrangements –
Stepping, pepping up the footlights.
Sixty-year-old fans adore him.
Me, I was so sad and bored for him,
But who am I to say?
The only constant – so they say – is change.
The mystery is what is behind its
Skeleton, that doesn’t change
But seems to change in aspects.
©Skeleton Of Change 06.8.30
Vaguely About Music; Nature Of & In Reality;
Arlene Corwin
Arlene Corwin Poetry 