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25th Street

The sidewalk
Boasts a running
Shade; the little black
Girls with polished pea
Toes (housed in plastic sandals)
Play alongside the street
Leaving shadows
On the concrete
That flutter like
Anonymous butterflies

One of them splays a pinkish
Palm over the stern round mouth of
The fire hydrant and cools her
Wriggling fingers in the spraying stream,
Saying,
Look, we broke the hydrant
She looks up and smiles for a moment,
Then crouches downward to move her sparkling scalp
Into the homemade tide

God, I've changed my mind;
I love your life
after all

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