THE HEART OF SONG

Two blocks into Harlem.  White shirts,

black ties, flowered dresses, patent

leather shoes, tattoos and beautiful hair;

the streets are always alive.

 

The beat mixes up.  The man

with a full beard smiles, exposing

a picket fence for teeth.  Conga drums

call out the dance in people.  Red and purple

cotton hats jive like released shadows.

Tired feet get the sleep slapped out of them.

A guitar strings out a solo,

drawing an applause from a child.

 

A warm unexpected rain washes everything

down.  Clouds soon part.  The city

begins again.

 

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