Notes About The Poem
image from poetess' personal scrapbook
MY OLD NEIGHBORHOOD
MY OLD NEIGHBORHOOD
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
crackerbox houses
a house a plumber
could afford,
barely.
I recall the pecan tree,
remembering
how I spent many afternoons
writing stories and poems under its branches.
the street was once charged with life~
kids walking to and from school,
playing kick-the-can, hide ‘n seek,
hopscotch, and red rover.
streetlights told us
it was time to go home.
but the years brought change
what was once full of life
is now silent.
Everyone has moved on.
But in my mind’s eye, I can still see
the cracks in the sidewalk,
the rustling of the pecan tree,
the setting sun while drinking iced tea on the front porch,
and smelling dinner cooking as it wafted through the open windows.
*Note: This poem was originally published at Poetry Soup, June 2025, and Lucky Jefferson Literary Magazine, July 2025.
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