The Birth of Cool

First the sky has a blues attack
then Nature slips on shades of black.
Night draws up like a Cadillac
while mellow trees sway forth and back.
The moon, curvaceous, starts to sing;
her star sequined dress shimmering
then black cats, like a growling bass
prowl around at a bluesy pace
and, suddenly, the whole world round
becomes the hippest spot in town.