Memories Of Childhood Poem by Alicia Patti

How they haunt me still
like playmates’ naughty taunts.
The old church bell
the lilacs’ smell,
the lilting daffodils.
Narrow, cobbled streets,
sidewalk market stalls;
old crones bleating sales
down at Fanueil Hall;
Fish for sale along the harbor’s
rim dead eyes staring,
sorrowful and grim.

Garlic and spaghetti
and East Side corner gangs;
weddings and confetti
and ancient streetcars clang.
Ivy-covered walls
and painted leaves in fall;
ghetto street kids playing
kick the can; old Italian vendors
touting crabs and clams.
Windows full of mothers
staring at the view;
a house chock-full of brothers,
drinking home-made brew.

Memories of childhood,
how they haunt me still,
And though I ponder all life long
I guess they always will.