Walking down Fifth Avenue
on a Sunday afternoon.
Shuffling to the rhythm
of the ghetto’s tortured
brilliance.
African Mozarts fill the air
with their street corner
symphonies.
Silence ensues as a slow
rain begins to fall.
The lively street soon becomes
deserted, a shadow of an ancient
memory.
Turning left on Fifty Second.
A couple huddling in a doorway.
They manage a smile as the
lingering rain continues unabated.