Wednesday, March 18, 2020

Arlene Corwin writes

Long Gone

I read about the clubs I worked in;
New York clubs where I began.
Read their names, which throw me back
To days of playing nine to one
Or ten to two, 45 long minutes on
And fifteen minutes off;
A long, long night to play my stuff,
Smiling, singing soul and heart,
Playing changes I hoped smart,
And always learning and collecting songs:
Now those clubs are all long gone.

I suppose we all have places, people,
We call gone. 
Ones which spawned one’s present form;
Times we were a pawn of time
And didn’t have a clue to climes
And days to come.

I don’t look back.
It’s not my nature.
All were steps: a nomenclature,
Nothing more.
I’ve put it all to pasture,
My reality a better now.
On the other hand,
These ‘long gones’ helped me grow.
I wouldn’t be if they’d not been.

Still singing, playing ‘spite the wrinkles.
Learning tunes that make me tingle.
All that ‘long gone’ was my own,
Reminiscing just an hour of fun.
Thank you fate and karma
For the way you form the day
And what it means, meant, leads to 
In completing all one’s needs.

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