keepin the beat

the bones
of all the pomes
read to a tenor sax
a wail in the night
echoes off
old cobblestones..
the breezeways
of Venice
still know
the slap slap
of his worn harrachi's
"the Lady"
muse for many
walks along
but only
on the shadow side

she sings alone
on this night
in the key of rose

shanna