Central Park West (for John Coltrane)
by John Menaghan
Stretched against
the skyline, cats
on the stealthy
prowl of Central
Park. High above
the Hudson, sax
describes North
Jersey in late
light, tugboats
on the river
hauling night
into the harbor
and the park.
Trane lays down
new tracks: cops
chasing shadows;
taxis breathing
yellow breeze;
howls echoing
through alleys;
sinuous sirens
cruising streets.
Evening smolders,
flares: sax
searing air.
Skyline bursts
one long last
strip of crimson.
Fire roams beyond
the land's black edge.
Five notes in slow
succession blow:
the dust of day
lies sprinkled
still with dark.
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