, originally uploaded by Lucas SD.
Rounding the corner of the park, I skirt the edge of the busy street. The crossing guard sees me and waves just like every Monday. His stop sign swings in the air, back and forth, different today. I slow down and look closely at each person, car and vendor on the street. I hear it, faint in the background, the music that everyone seems to be moving to. The crossing guard lilts as he leads children across the street. The kids swing their satchels to the beat. The policeman directs traffic, his whistle the off beat.
Whatever the song is, I quickly realize I am the only one who doesn't recognize it, who is not involved in the intricate dance. When I stop to listen, the crowd spills around me, not missing a beat. Spinning in a slow circle, I see the homeless man helping the lady with her groceries, their dance a ballet. Stepping closer to hear, to feel the beat through the sidewalk, I narrowly miss being hit by the streetcar whose bell chimes in time; I am out of the rhythm.