clawing for the c sharp

I tap the metal railing every other step
with the ring on my right hand
until it sounds like I'm keeping the beat

there is no beat though, only the chink
of gold on steel
the mousy scream
of diamond on glass

my left foot lands on the off-beat
until I am music
going up the stairs
and no one knows
who I am.

there is no immorality in me
as I smile at them
unnecessarily kind
and warm when cold would do.

What a waste of energy
I think,
as i let my music out
and dance around for them.

they hear cacaphony
but it is jazz
and blues

it is soul
and salvation.

I turn to look down the stairs
and two young black guys
in baggy pants and black caps
look back at me.

I open the door and step out onto the Common,
the city is singing
but we are all silent

is that the best we can do?