CH

Once in a while someone tries

To tell Coleman Hawkins that

He died in 1969. It never takes.

Listen. A few notes drift a bit

Past the minor key they started in

When he played them at Kelly’s

But that’s about it. Somewhere

It is always 1946. The war is over

And the cloud of cigarette smoke

Hanging over the music

Won’t do you a lick of harm.