The Shining Parlor By Anita Scott Coleman
It was a drab street A white man's street . . . Jammed with automobiles Streetcars and trucks; Bee-hived with fruit vendors' stalls, Real estate concerns, meat shops, Dental clinics, and soft drink stands. It was a drab street A white man's street . . . But it held the shining parlor— A boot-black booth, Commandeered by a black man, Who spent much time smiling out Upon the hub-bub of the thoroughfare. Ever . . . serenely smiling . . . With a brush and soiled rag in his hands. Often . . . white patrons wait for Their boots to be "shined," Wondering the while At the wonder-- Of the black man's smile.
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