I am 7 year old boy awaken to a beautiful day summer morning the sunshine hits my face everyone is starting to awaken, I raise my window to get some fresh summer air birds chirping not a cloud in the sky, I can hear my mother with her flip flops coming down the hall my brother and my big sister are now all awaken to the start of this beautiful summer day, I can hear pots & pans being shuffle from the kitchen cabinet, mom is setting up breakfast, me and my brother as we sat on the living room floor to watch our morning cartoons I know that my mother will be calling us soon for us to gather around the dining table for our morning Breakfast eggs, beacon, grits, and waffles, we gather to pray to thank God for this wonderful meal we are about to receive, we enjoyed this great meal, as I go to my window seal I can see people starting their day going to the news stand men and women walking hand in hand, it's going to be a lovely day as the temperture starts to rise I can see the sun in the sky, it's midday now me and my brother race down stairs to go out side to play with our friends like it's no end, playing tag, going to the big park and jump on the swings and sliding board having fun in the sun, it's near evening time now it's time to come in we tell our friends see you tomorrow, we meet up with our big Sister on the stoop we all go upstairs together, Mom has dinner ready so we go to wash up pray & eat, Jazz music is playing in the back ground it's 7pm now it' night out side my big sister invites me and my brother to come and sit on the fire escape it was beautiful out nice summer breeze it's so clear that you can see the constellation of stars in the sky as we snack on chips and Pepsi Cola, we  was enjoying the sounds of jazz music maybe John Coltrane or Miles Davis I was too young to know who but being on the fire escape on a nice summer night with your brother and big Sister and hearing this smooth soulful music at night it's nothing like it, neon lights and head lights glittering the night streets of Harlem in 1963, time is getting late it's bed time now we say good night to this beautiful Harlem summer night. Poem written by Randy Edwards 9/6/23