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A new York story

The city played Gershwin loud
Too much heat, extreme weather
Each avenue appeared to glue together
High summer bewildered the crowd
Eddie Silver sat, foot upon his knee
Business on hold; for lunch – pastrami,
Onions and relish, on rye
A reflective time for the private eye
In breezed the dame – buxom and jilted
Stood by the window to sensually smoulder
Eddie looked up from a trilby that tilted
Out to the mean streets, over her shoulder
Looking at her weeping, an unsteady broad
Beautiful brunette from the south-side of town
A letter thrown open, words tumbled down
Gershwin played on – in a far lower chord
Eddie stared through her dark damson eyes
To the reason she stood close to him
Softly speaking of hardship and lies
Trying to unburden the notion of sin
Eddie Silver: private investigator
Discretion totally guaranteed
Every diploma from murder to law
All cases taken – religion and creed
The sun beat down on Times Square
Yellow cabs swerved in tandem to
The beat of the people who share
The sound of a rhapsody in blue.
Stephen Holloway.

About poetreecreations

I am an author writer publisher web administrator I run poetry workshops in the community. My published Manners childrens poetry book can be found at

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