dance across a Cadillac, scatter into a haze
and escape through a false night sky.
So I gave up faith in Orion's Belt, kissed Ursa Major
goodnight for summer, and found my home on Loop 12.
Moving tore me open, but now the architecture heals.
On the museum lawn, jazz wrapped the red, sprawling
sculpture and brought 75 to their feet to slide across the bricks.
Then, a black woman smacked my hip and said, "Smile, boy!"
So I smiled at the horse race in its colors of royalty
and beasts of speed. I smiled at my place of rest,
my home for the Summer.
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