Arlene Corwin Poetry

        It All Passes

The strangest thing: realised,
Each time a new surprise:
Praised, eulogised, the googled photos,
Heroines and heroes;
Scenes from yesteryear,
The most admired and desired,
Auras and tiaras not required anymore.

Not important In themselves;
An adjectival used-to-be.
Of no significance, a former, previously…
Gone within the blink of eye, it’s passed us by.
Praying, thinking,, thanking, hoping.
One learns a bit and goes on groping.

Nothing’s new, we know.
This coming, growing and then going.
What we were accustomed to:
The famous and the stylish trends,
The what and who…
It ends, it ends.

Conversant or acquainted with,
De rigour, chic, glamorous,
What’s ‘in’ and who, the all the rage…
My goodness, age is age,

Be advised:
Not recommended but reminded
To not disregard, or brush aside
The end that’s ended.
Now is now.
What is, is;
Only now.
And it all passes.

It All Passes 8.10.2021 Circling Round Time II; Circling Round Experience; Birth, Death & In Between III; Arlene Nover Corwin