A path to Heaven
She's black with head band
Wool on head, nose flat
She's reading and writing
Like time of cotton fields
(Birth place of the jazz)
She's softly whispering
Black Angel from Heaven,
Dion Warwick, Nancy King
"Do not leave" I tell her.
Surprised she listens.
"With your voice I'm drunk."
"Thank you" she smiles.
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