Shanna Baldwin, US

 

 

Free Verse Safe In Our Celler tribute to Tony Scibella   Oh soft black night of unheard prayer the lady walks and does not care she does not know your path that guides nor does she hear what darkness hides cold and coatless With windblown hair The lady walks her throat is bare your darkest street hides her fear the open doorway calls her near enter in the warm lit room the poets there warm her bones with words that care Venice 1959     The Lady   magic memories of the Lady sounds of an alto sax echoes Billie...Billie... down the cobblestone breezeway the cellar lights soft he snaps his fingers to the rhythm of the night the poet in the moonlight blows another riff for the lady...softly     Sound Hits Paper   Midnight on the Gas House Roof The poets are out quiet streets miniatures in the moonlight the breeze blows the cobwebs go below me a poet waits his pen in hand a dance of words blowing around him cosmic dust settles and stick to his little black book it was willed the way the words fall ah...The fall of the poets ax as sound hits paper Shanna Baldwin The Gas House Roof 1959