ACCORDION MAN
Leaning against a tunnel wall
in busy New York City Grand Central corridor
His hands, grasp an accordion
stretched wide—it is a lung
He continually feeds it with air
As it expands and contracts, its reeds
Release a husky sound
a message to all
Commuters are always in a hurry
yet he sings a song and imagines
the air leaving this squeezebox
may just resuscitate one person
Like a whale with blow hole
in a vast ocean, releasing its spray
mist against a concrete sky.
he stands alone—organ man,
Lone wolf,
howling in the night
Those who dare look up
will see the moon
— Abraham Menashe
© 2017