The Big Band

gone are the times of man
the cigars and brandy
pin stripped suits and slicked back hair
the classy bar gatherings with the bartender
in his white shirt and drying cloth.

gone are the days of money sports and business
talk of war victories
the success of the Yankees
the cobblestone sidewalks and the ever familiar
black brimmed hats and freshly polished
Italian leather shoes.

gone are the days of greeting Johnny
after he came home
from the war to meet his wife
holding his new born son
the people waiting out by the train station
waiving tiny American flags and cheering as the
engineer blows the horn in excitement.

gone are the times of gayety
when the only worry of walking alone in the streets
was an unfair price on the fresh
fish in the market stand.
when passing the rhythmic shoeshine stand
gave a joyful kick in your step
then out on the corner came the sweet
harmonic rag time blues from an old
saxophone.

gone are the days of the good time
when the drug store had all you wanted
the hand mixed soda pops that came with a wink
its red spinning seats and all the candy
you could want was there for the taking.
the crisp brass music flowed from the
recorder in the corner
where a few old men were
playing cards.

gone are the days of men
the home cooked meal
after a hard days work
a kiss from the wife and the
laughter from the children.

the times are long forgotten
they are only
memories to be cherished
gone are the times
gone
forever into the black and white
from which they came.