The Lad with Spring in His Step

A lad came stutter stepping down a side street,
hair aflame in the sun, Scott Joplin in his feet,
voice softly grooving with bursts of scat singing,
melodies and lyrics shifting every minute or so,

his eyes swiveling back and forth from one side
of the street to the other, tracking the spring walks
of young ladies, talking in song to stray cats, dogs,
and cantankerous crows unwilling to move out

of the way of his spirited stroll that found
inevitable paths (without rancor or menace)
through obstacles large and small, greeting all
who crossed his path with a joie de vivre that left

smiles in his wake and sunshine in conversations flowering
as he disappeared round a corner, far up the street.