Anyone who moves to Old Town Alexandria has to undergo an acclimation period--during which time you trip on uneven brick sidewalks, skid and twist ankles on the few cobblestone streets, learn again the rules for four-way stops and who has the right of way. You figure out your own shortcuts, determine traffic patterns, and refresh your parallel parking skills.
Having lived in two separate locations on South Pitt Street since we moved here, I've traveled frequently on the first block of South Pitt Street, between King and Prince--and this is where I set today's MAPP poem.
South Pitt Street
Gazing north to south
(like the Confederate soldier on Prince)
you can see St. Mary’s School,
centered and commanding:
an obvious destination.
But,
south to north,
there are obstructed views
of delivery trucks,
police cars, local traffic
jammed up at King.
Snaking round the trucks,
the taxis, emerging cars
from the hotel garage,
and incoming courthouse mavens,
I pay attention to jaywalking tourists
(who are paying no attention)
as I calmly drive
on the wrong side of the road
as Alexandrians do
--as they often must—
negotiating Pitt Street.
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