The boy sits on a stoop watching in quiet solitude

As a person rushes by with an impassive attitude

Eyes staring straight ahead to avoid any activity

Perhaps afraid of what by chance he might see

He’s missed the shadow dancing across the street

With graceful rhythm she moves her skillful feet

A woman smokes on the fire escape far above

And farther up come the coos of a morning dove

But the taxi driver doesn’t care as he lays on his horn

And the guy on the bicycle flips him off with scorn

Soulful sounds of a saxophone beginning to play

Adds to all the music the street creates everyday

The city has a way of incorporating its own beat

And if you truly listen it’ll make you tap your feet

So, he sits on the stoop listening and keeping time

Then starts singing the words he’s chosen to rhyme

He doesn’t know or even cares if it sounds that good

It connects him to life, and he’d sing forever if he could