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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 www.waterstones.com

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