Roads Need Maps Like Songs Need Singers

Written in response to prompt at The Sunday Whirl

Every change requires a new map
said my little old auntie
when she took up chanting
instead of talking so every
conversation became a song
a memory of high Mass except
instead of priests wielding incense
a gray-haired lady in a flowered dress
asks if you’d like a bit more peach pie.
After lunch, you take a walk
Gregorians on the radio
got her started, she explains in chant
Block after block she chants
the whole town takes up the habit
the grocer, the baker, the candlestick maker
every ordinary exchange a melodious moment
Sometimes my auntie dances, too
especially at intersections
so it’s only a matter of time
till that starts a whole new craze
Let’s get this showwwww
on the roaddddddd, she chants to the stoplight
till it too falls into a trance and does her bidding