Boston, as my new country rips itself in two over slavery, is if not the place to be, at least an important hub.
What do I see? Cobblestone streets, some tall builidngs, sailing ships in the harbor
What do I hear? Irish brogues, songs and the squawk of sea birds
What do I smell? fish, smoke and the high smell of people who don’t get to wash often
What do I touch? sewing needles, fabric and schoolbooks, maybe an elevator lever
What do I taste? cabbage, potatoes and sometimes a pork hock in beans.
I am ten years old, what matters to me? Being outside, running, getting to ride a horse
Aw, and she’s off again. That Jane, just can’t keep her fingers off the keys.

Speak now or forever hold your piece!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s