Comeback
Perhaps I should be grateful
That I never was recipient
Of great applause, years of adorers,
Years of being stunning,
Broadway’s honey (or the like).
Grateful that
I never had to bow out,
That I never got
To miss the kudos
(Never knowing what life was without them
‘Cause I never got them.)
Never got to play Las Vegas.
Grateful that
There never came a time of missing,
Longing for the non-existent encore;
Cheering I no longer hear.
Hair gone gray,
Kilos heading the wrong way,
You are asked to make a comeback,
(Or you’ve asked to make a comeback)
For life’s boring, and no hobby takes the place
Of people sitting in their places.
So you sweat and strain
To get those kilos off again,
To get back those routines
Where you could move (like in your teens),
With flexibility, the voice
Retaining every nuance.
We’ve seen Frank and Cher
Come back again…and then again…
We follow each rendition,
Each gradation, limitation and we cheer
Until we find our cheers have hesitation.
I am grateful that I never
Had the clamoring for autographs and tresses,
Tearing dresses, theirs and mine.
Never had the glamour and the clamor of the masses –
And the need to make a comeback,
Coming back to public whimsical and smelling wine,
Hard to define.
And still I grow.
© Comeback 5.28.2008
Birth, Death & In Between; Time; Vaguely About Music;
Arlene Corwin
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Arlene Corwin Poetry 