the streets of Camden still mourn music
royalty, the queen who lived too much,
soared too high, near to the scorching sun
where only the mad and geniuses fly.
and twenty seven arrived too soon,
before your time but time enough to tattoo
yourself on hearts and minds. On that day
I heard the legend of Sarah Vaughan cry.
and wandering into Stables Market I hear
you breathing from a bronze statue that echoes
your raw, sweet sound and everything that
is you, hand on hip, beehive, the pose of
the pained Queen of Camden who now
shines with the spirits in the sky. Amy,
forgive me but I have to ask, if by chance
you see Marvin, could you tell him I said hi?