On A City Block Poem by Daniel Brick

We live wherever we can...
Once I saw an older man,
fiftyish, with his gray hair
pulled back into a ponytail
and a shaggy beard which bounced
when he moved. Eyes closed, he was
dancing wildly in front of
a dilapidated apartment building.
'Hey man, are you dancing for rain? '
I cried out. Abruptly, he stopped.
Then his eyes flashing wide open,
his whole face smiling, he replied,
'No man, I'm dancing for joy! If I stop,
my hopes will crash... Come on, help me.'
And so I did. I helped a guy who needed
his hopes. We danced dervish dances
in tight circles, we danced Zorba dances
with linked arms, going back and forth
across his narrow patch of grass.
We did free form rock dancing and
what he called JAZZ ORPHEUS DANCING.
Forty minutes, give or take,
we danced in tandem to keep hope green
and fresh and ever-lasting. Passers-by
were puzzled but not curious. A few dropped
coins in his blue cap, and smiled but said
not a word. And when he wasn't looking
at me, spinning about, almost collapsing,
I stuffed two fifty dollar bills
in his ragged blue cap. I tried to leave
without notice. But he called after me
in a voice rough with anger and belief,
'Someday I will live in plush digs
just around the corner from Paradise Gardens.
Come and visit me at the end of your tether,
and I will give you a slice of Heaven
you can keep forever.' I smiled and waved,
but he was already lost to me,
dancing wildly on his narrow patch of green.