The Rooftops of Kirkbride School, Philadelphia, circa1961, A Poem


My grandmother is to the right and the lady with her is one of her sisters. This picture was taken somewhere in New York or Philadelphia. I am not sure. She was from Sicily and had ten children. This picture was taken about 1950

The Rooftops of Kirkbride School

The bus arrives. I run ahead.

Away to the country,  that’s why we get out of bed

Thinking of my Italian grandma now long dead

I remember my Concetina

She was my best friend

We sing on the bus, what fun

To the country, off to play with anyone

The air is clear and smells fresh like a cinnamon bun

                                     Like soft baked bread

    I want to get some from a South Philly bakery store

The bus takes us home, its occupants dispenses

to the rooftops at school boarded by iron fences

A tune to my senses

is the noise of three-wheeled bikes, wagons, galore

All this fun  for children who play and run

I win the race; the fastest among them, feeling tall

Their sour little faces fall

Feeling like a curtain call

I raise my hands and score

I’d obey every rule, it was a wonderful day at Kirkbride School

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