Every morning in my street
There is a dance when people meet
Granma waits on her spot
As I back out from my lot
She climbs into her daughter’s van
When they move forward so I can
A propane truck from the other direction
Pulls aside and awaits our egression
Like pistons or dancers our vehicles glide
Zipping through or pulling aside
In Canada
In Japan
Made wider by the compromise
That is where Japan
In evening the dance has an encore
As we return to pass once more
How free would the world be of strife
If we could dance so all our life
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