Business on
Forest Street how quaint,
the merchants displaying their wares
Mid 19th century like,
On sidewalk displays of commercial
Renaissance,  essence of Renoit
air
Of the Bard
Touch of town folks fresh from the hills
In wagons long dresses cowboy hats and wood
Silks and satins of bright colors
And patterns
In celebration  of how good
It was
Back then
Says horses and slop bucket smells, gaining the footing of paved streets,
Over septic systems carrying the
Saintly smells of yore underground
So efficiently, yet
We yearn
As an old man
I know yearning, for days gone by
Now golden
Were it tinged glowing gold by my mind decades old or by
My eyes cataract and unfocused,
I do not know.
Why I would like
To know.
At my age
Is the future still
So far off?