New Orleans
We watch him make a coin disappear
Into thin air,
The magician entertains us
Not in a fancy nightclub
Or at a show we bought a ticket for,
But on the street in Nawlins,
Where he earns his living
Collecting money in a hat,
A cop on motorcycle
Interrupts the show
Beeping his siren, clearing us away,
The magician, irritated,
Quickly wraps up,
reminds us to contribute,
he steps to the curb,
Where now appears
On the street where he was standing
A parade! – for no other reason than to celebrate Spring,
Strutters strut their stuff
While playing ragtime music
Marching past with drums and trumpets,
They wink as we catch the beat
start moving to the music,
while Kings and Queens and children
Hand out flowers to the crowd,
I collect my own colorful bouquet,
Some real, some imitation,
Then the band goes by, and we join the end of the line,
Climbing into the street,
we strut our own stuff
on the streets of New Orleans,
dancing, strutting,
we join the grand parade.
Cfblack 3-27-2012