What is a City’s Soul?

Is it the ledge
Housing a slumbering sage,
Or a Bakelite Shop
Caking with age?
An old Gospel Mother
Talking and singin’
‘Bout the Kings Highway,
Perhaps the braided
Girls dutch-doubled(Double-dutch)
Skipping rope? (Full of hope)
Or instead the ‘Ital’
Barber whom a young
Buck once feared-
Now he is glad
Just to cut any hair;
Likely it is these and
Many more,
Simple facets of a weary wonderful city—
A pavilion of endless
Hopes.