Jazz Harlem Renaissance Poem by Shirley Morgan

Jazz, Harlem is my roots. Call me a little nappy headed girl. And I just love to tap dance. The difference between me and you as we watch the smoke come from the streets of harlem is that my mother had to struggle to buy my shoes so I'm going to dance to there wore out. You come by your shoes naturally because of your jewish linkage, she smile at me and chuckle that my heritage is a culture of shoe salemen, my grandfathers' family owns and makes the shoes. My soul can feel that and one day I'm going to own that store two on Lexington Ave. I must dance and practice and one day you little blue eye girl you can dance with me to the smokey sound of jazz on Lexington Ave.