every
autumn evening
just
around dinner time
nestled
in the neighborhood
where
a nickel costs a dime
the
setting november sun
trades
places with the downtown skyline
there’s
nothing like harlem sunset in late november
an
incandescent changing of the color guard
that
never fails to line these sugar coated hills
with
shadow as well as light
its
flavor is rich and sweet
like
a whooping plate full of
sylvia’s
crispy chicken and waffles
or
the freshly brewed iced tea
that
washes it down
these
lazily stretching rays reflected on my window pane
reflect
the blend of colors in harlem
reflect
the blend of colors in me
there’s
nothing like a harlem sunset in late november
a
block of maroon rooftops
softly
kiss a copper toned cloud
its
color is rich and deep
like
otis redding spinning a heartfelt line
that
seeps into your very pores
and
i never mind watching the twilight fade away
while
sitting on the dock of any bay
wasting
time
wasting
time
there’s
nothing like a harlem sunset in late november
like
a slowly dying candle flame
the
orange embers blend into
a
pale blue palatte
crackling
yellowed leaves
line
a street so twisting and narrow
that
even cab drivers have trouble navigating
where
do all the leaves come from
in
a neighborhood with such few trees
there’s
nothing quite like a harlem sunset in late november
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