Different Stages Only Phases
Everything so different now that I have fingers three;
No arpeggios, chromatic chords, only mental harmony.
Brain is such a super monarch –
Three small fingers clink, clank, plink, pluck,
Bass in left hand, thumb in right
Singing, swinging in delight.
I find myself with dissonance a useful dance,
Voice to help in jazz’s trance.
Chords filled out,
The lonesome thumb with its own route.
Lines that seem to suit me best.
Less virtuosic but more honest.
Voice, no longer young, accepts that;
Faith inside the sharp and flat.
Which brings us back to living with what comes,
As if three fingers and piano
Are the essence of the flow.
Do they say, “Go with the flow?”
What Job found out to know?
Different stages only phases
To accept and say hello
To jazz as closure.
Different Stages Only Phases.3.8.2022 Vaguely About Music II; Arlene Nover Corwin
Arlene Corwin Poetry 