Sepia Singers

The russet lady waves thin fingers

To a duet of sepia singers,

Whose sorrowing windsong lingers

            In an abandoned opera house.

             A discarded diva

            A superfluous savior

Are only faded chime ringers.

 

Clouded windows lacking glow

Are covering what no one knows,

Are empty echoes of sold-out shows

            In an empty auditorium.

            A broken beauty

            A helpless hero

Wandering between the rows.

 

Sadly resigned, they wander long

Together they can see the wrong,

Because they know the same song.

            In a vacant theatre

            A lost lady

            A listless lord

Find true harmonies, together strong.