Quotidian Life

A bicycle splashes 
over a puddle
 and its aura
reflects down 
the streetlights
praying halos 
on the umbrellas
of the pedestrians
that pass under.

Down the block
two stop signs
on opposite streets
both signal WALK,
letting the crisscross 
of the quotidian  begin.

This moment it’s 
a blue umbrella 
scissoring around 
a red one.

Earlier a chihuahua 
in a poncho sniffs 
and wants to  nip 
at the English bulldog
wearing a Mac
in the pouring rain.
(Is it so strange.)

Hours later a woman
in a white dress 
and black high heels
will struggle with
the designer handbag
slung on her left shoulder 
and the Bergdof’s bag
grasped tight in her right.

The crossing mother 
with the black stroller 
sings a shushing lullaby,
hardly noticing 
the little stumble.

Oh how,
The city releases 
its spectacle of life 
when it rains.