How they haunt me still br like playmates’ naughty taunts. br The old church bell br the lilacs’ smell, br the lilting daffodils. br Narrow, cobbled streets, br sidewalk market stalls; br old crones bleating sales br down at Fanueil Hall; br Fish for sale along the harbor’s br rim dead eyes staring, br sorrowful and grim. br br Garlic and spaghetti br and East Side corner gangs; br weddings and confetti br and ancient streetcars clang. br Ivy-covered walls br and painted leaves in fall; br ghetto street kids playing br kick the can; old Italian vendors br touting crabs and clams. br Windows full of mothers br staring at the view; br a house chock-full of brothers, br drinking home-made brew. br br Memories of childhood, br how they haunt me still, br And though I ponder all life long br I guess they always will.