Having just stepped out of a SoHo bistro
I heard the melancholy wail of a distant
tenor sax. Then in rapid succession; a car door
slammed, a taxi sped past and a solitary crow
cawed his lonely song. The clickity-clack of
running heels echoed off wet alley walls. A red
neon flickered LETOH on a beaded windshield.
All ominous warnings to take care this night.
suits and pretty secretaries co-mingle with
the panhandlers, bus station drifters and cautious
tourists. This late night, a lone woman exits
her Birmingham bus clutching purse and cane
with scrub bucket knuckles and drags her old
bones through the shadowed maze of steel &
glass & marble to her Gratiot Ave. redbrick
walk-up. I watched as she diminished in the
distance beyond the brown pools of lamp lights.
A faint flickering neon rimmed her figure in blue
before she faded to black.