Vignette
Bronzed Souls on Asphalt
Harlem’s eternal song
Beneath the jaundiced lamplight glow,
Harlem’s pulse quickens,
its bronzed souls on asphalt sway,
where whispers of jazz
mingle with the moon’s soft lament,
caressing bricks and dreams alike.
–
A saxophone wails, cuts the air,
a golden thread of sorrow
woven through twilight,
as feet shuffle, syncopated,
echoing a rhythm deep as roots,
ancient as rivers’ song.
–
Night’s velvet cloak shrouds
the brownstones’ stern gaze,
their stoic faces etched with stories
of longing and resilience,
each window a portal to lives
bathed in light and shadow.
–
Sidewalks hum, a mosaic
of hurried steps and languid strolls,
where voices, rich and textured,
weave tales of daily triumphs
and unseen battles,
their cadence a testament to survival.
–
Here, laughter spills,
buoyant and bright, a counterpoint
to the city’s relentless grind,
and lovers’ murmurs
float on a breeze perfumed
with the scent of hope and despair.
–
In the distance, a preacher’s cry,
a benediction cast into the night,
mingles with the clatter
of subway trains, their iron wheels
singing hymns of departure,q
of promises to return.
–
The stars, faint and sparse,
flicker above, witnesses to
the eternal dance,
where dreams are forged
and broken, reformed in the fire
of tenacity and grace.
–
Underneath this urban sky,
we move, a mosaic of life,
each beat, each breath,
a note in the symphony
of Harlem’s eternal song,
etched in the memory of night.
–
Ani Eldritch 2024
