The neighborhood is gone
Familiar faces
No where to be seen
Portland cements hides
The dusty street below
Progress left its scars
Razed our shotgun house
And poured an interstate..,
The corner gang no more
So precious few
Can be accounted for
They are the ones
Who lie so still and cold
Beneath incongruous slabs of stone
With names of barefoot friends
I used to know

Copyright Louis Brown