on gray hard streets we pounded out our youth
amidst tightly knitted cobble stone pathways
and shining windows always kept clean
struggling strong immigrants far and wide
teemed fruitfully through long days
and playful front stoop games
ring a leeveo and johnny on a pony
stick ball, jax and my favorite skellzey
mostly happy but deadly too
many ways of speaking were spoken
cultures clashed but soon subsided
in quiet civility and tamed calm
that all efforts would bring ahead more
bright days and simple luxuries
a streetside chat... a day at Orchard Beach
breezy stroll through Crotona Park...
a picnic by water's edge and maybe a hooked flounder
pale afternoon sun would blaze firey red at sunset
then pink and purple painted effortlessly
across our sleeping skies
we longed just for friendly pushing around
flirting with the girls when the nerve came up
and smart challenges of who could do what
when and how
for then that time, our time it was
all just a dream a day and the glories
of growing up...