Spinning, spinning,
the pavement tilts and settles,
tilts again; music drums a beat, colors
whirling faster and faster to the thrum
thrum in our ears, our veins, our feet
on the hot
Strings of summer rise with heat
as we turn, turn, heads back,
eyes sliding sideways, hair whipping cheeks,
mouths stretching wider and wider
until only the sound and the color
and the beat of the music course
in our ears, our veins, our feet
on this swinging summer street.
