Street Symphony

There's a thousand crows Circling the park blocks. Men With Polka dot shirts try to Chase them off the bocce ball courts.

Rancid cardboard boxes decay on the corners like brown snowmen.

The lambent orange lamps flicker a Morse code only the shy, curious eyes of bespectacled kids left on the side of the clay courts can decipher.

As dusk drops its cape over the horizon, the neon undercarriage lights of the backyard modded street racers illuminate the streets.

Long swaths of cement carry ground rubber in its crevices as the burnouts and races compared closer to timed portraiture than illegal activity.

The lonesome rattle of half-empty bottles is the undertone of the street symphony.