Thursday, December 12, 2013

 The Corner of Medford and Sycamore 

    One corner of Medford and Sycamore.
    Had a broken down shack of a variety store;
    Luckies were two for a penny then;
    Thank God, I couldn’t buy many then;
    I’m almost glad I was poor!

    But, Somerville, Mass. was really a gas
    Before Hitler and Tojo showed up;
    Corners at twilight, bread was a nickel
    But the world was about to erupt.

    Across the street was the corner of choice,
    Where the nightly editions lay;
    THUD, off the back of a newspaper truck
    Quick! How’d the Sox due today?

    The cop on the corner of Medford and Sycamore
    Was a guy I remember so well
    We called him Officer Powers
     And he loved us kids, you could tell!

    The corner was always crowded
    At eight, and again at three;
    That’s when kids were coming and going
    To the Foster School, you see.

    Sometimes our policeman would put up his hand
    And ten cars would squeal to a stop
    While Officer Powers put some kid on his shoulder
    And crossed the street hippity-hop.

    About five, or six, as evenings got on
    It was the teens and guys time to boast;
    Sharing their day, talking about Foxx
    And this Williams kid, up from the coast

    What might  Louis  do to Schmeling?
    The next time these fighters met;
    Could Cronin turn the Sox around?
    The older guys said, you bet!”

    Did you see who took the sixth today?
    Some nag from upstate New York;
    Now, if the fix wasn’t in on that one;
    I’ll swim back to County Cork.

   Then one morning everything stopped
   It was Monday, in a cold December;
   Pearl Harbor had been bombed, the navy sunk
   Would the corner cry, guys get drunk?
   Someone said, “We’ll remember!”

   Every one of my guys on the corner
   Fought somewhere in a foreign land
   Half came back, half got killed
   Do the new guys understand?


No comments:

Post a Comment