As a child I walked, no ran, downtown
a dollar grasped in hands that wanted to move small plastic armies
to Woolworth's for a bag of soldiers in Gloversville

Then as the places that made things left
and Main Street began to starve and it's abandoned bones bleached in the Adirondack sun
We drove to shop, like everyone else in Gloversville

Standing once proud and full of life
Then left to decay and die
The resurrection of the Schine brings light to Gloversville

In the midst of the abandoned and empty
a spark grows to a small flame
and a more vibrant life returns to Gloversville

I remember Buffalo-
Amherst actually, but the suburb not the college town
My nephew lives in Amherst
But the college town not the suburb

My grandmother lived in Buffalo
Amherst really
and my dad too
My grandfather died there, before I was born

We never said we were going to Amherst
We said Buffalo
Like someone from Los Alamitos might say
they were from Los Angeles

But Buffalo was where grandmother was
But not the fun one
The fun one lived in Gloversville
Which is near Amsterdam, my mom used to tell us it was Amstergosh

Still, Amherst had soft boiled eggs for breakfast
a giant oriental rug on which a small boy could play
but just with his Matchbox cars
and a blow-up Sinclair dinosaur

There was the garage with doors at both ends
Perfect for hiding a car
From brothers-in-law
On a wedding day

There was the giant Chrysler
light green as I recall
In the driveway past which the neighbors lived
with their iced tea with mint and lemon

There were Uncle John and aunt Mimi
Who were like my great uncle and aunt
Except they weren't
Just really close family friends

Uncle John was the one who told me at the age of five
"Always tell a woman you need to leave an hour before you actually have to leave"
We were waiting for Mimi to "get ready" so we could go somewhere
She was taking forever

I do remember Buffalo
Amherst really
But I know there is so much more
that I've forgotten