Something lingers

Like smoke from a cannonade
or the faded remnant of a dream
something lingers

 

On this sunlit afternoon
parakeets exchange their vulgar news

 

Gravel grinds beneath police cars
prowling at surveillance speed
through promenading crowds

 

At a meeting place of avenues
enchantment hangs beneath the trees

 

Not half an hour ago
musicians cast their spell upon this space
A sound much greater than its sum of parts

 

The promenaders slowed and eddied
Gathered into knots that tarried, slipped away
but slowly built into a crowd

 

Time paused to listen
swaying, smiling with the rest
But everything must pass

 

The band packed its songs
lit cigarettes and drifted on

 

But just as smoke hangs in the silence
just as dreams persist in consciousness
something lingers

 

Enchantment hangs beneath the trees
where parakeets exchange their news
and gravel grinds beneath patrolling wheels