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Bird on 52nd Street


JTParreira
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JTParreira

The ghost of bebop

from 52nd Street,

left footprints in the snow.

 

A Cab passed, in the yellowish night,

a drunk volatile

with a goose-step, almost

gave a kick in the stars.

 

Slid under the door

of the Three Deuces the blues.

 

The street was a cold mirror

when it rains, now remember

a mantle of ermine

the lap of Lady Day.

 

To Charlie Parker

 

2008

 

J.T.Parreira

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Aleksandra

The ghost of bebop

from 52nd Street,

left footprints in the snow.

 

What a nice combination of the beginning and the end of this poem. I loved how it starts and ends. It sounds so compact and so well written. With sense and right way.

 

The street was a cold mirror

when it rains, now remember

a mantle of ermine

the lap of Lady Day.

 

Perfect ending stanza Joao.

Much enjoyed in this poem.

 

Aleksandra

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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