Hangin' out with Sasha

all the way down Flute Street
one hand pushing her buggy
her back to me i see only the top of her hat
and can't see it keeps flopping down over her eyes
& she doesn't mind,
keeps turning her head this way and that,
till i check and shove it gently up again


cross the street to the sunlit side
& turn the corner down Oboe Road
past ladies walking, some smile some don't even look
and Sasha's cool, takes it all in
with subtle murmurs
finding their way, slowly,
to inevitable speech and song
but, for now, pure happy discovery


left, now, on Organ Avenue
under a long line of chestnut trees
bombing the street with chestnuts in the wind
bashing on cars, bashing on boxes by the road,
bashing the sidewalk spilling their fruit
& i rush to protect her sweet head
& no one seems concerned
& i wonder, what do they know? are we immune?


Sasha fears nothing
Zaida pushes her buggy
down Organ, across Fluegelhorn past the market
to the corner,
to cross safely at the lights
to the other side, to the Trumpet News Cafe


we go in, line up for a sandwich & coffee
the joint's jumpin and Sasha at everybody's knee level
in her buggy gazes around with perfect serenity
i have never seen such perfect serenity on a face
anyone with the good sense to make eye contact
gets the brightest smile in town


it's a long wait,
saturday morning,
one of the last before winter takes over
finally we get my roastbeef & java and, one hand bearing the plate, the other
on sasha's buggy, pushing
we get an outside table and sit in the sun


we talk about everything there is to talk about
which is nothing that anyone could comprehend
a musical burbling of meaningful syllables
she watches me consume my sandwich
as though it were something she might consider doing herself, one day
and comments with wry wit


then that little cry
that says, i'm not particularly unhappy
but i want you to pick me up, now,
and there's no other way i can say it
so i pick her up and hold her to me with one arm so i can eat my sandwich
with the other, and she leans back, better to focus on me, and grabs at
a few beard whiskers with the pudgy fist, grins widely with quiet gurgles


i carry her back inside for my refill
but can't fill the cup with one hand
so get help from the counterman
& back outside once more in the sun
we watch the wind together, walkers, dogs, crazy cars


back in her stroller i push her home
she sings and talks and takes everything in
and when she's quiet i lean over to see her sleeping