Poetry | Boston
© 2010-2020 by Vernon Miles Kerr, VernonMilesKerr.com
BOSTON
For the Californian,
San Francisco comes to mind .
But not so hilly,
Walkable.
But bricks, bricks, red bricks.
Omnipresent.
We’d have ‘em too except for ours
Being shattered and culled in epic quakes.
And so many Irish Pubs
And other old stuff.
“Benjamin Franklin was born on this spot.”
“Benjamin Franklin was baptized in this church.”
“Paul Revere rode through here.”
“Here, Alexander Graham Bell called for Mr. Watson.”
Those far-away mythical places in the Weekly Reader
Are real, afterall.
And there are the Red Sox.
You don’t have to see them to sense their presence:
They are on everyone’s lips:
The Red Sox doing battle against the Green Monster…
And against the Yankees, them damn’d Yankees.