The crisp, fresh air fills my lungs with innocence.
The stars sparkle brightly as the brilliant shine blinds me.
Ruddy red and brown bricks are strategically placed for millions of footsteps
walking by. I hear the breaths of conversations, and heartbeats of those in love.
The streets of old Milwaukee . . .

Light posts guide the travelers along specialty shops.
In the candy shop: sparkling clear glass jars, heaps of colored candy,
licorice, nuts, chocolates, cherries.
My taste buds tingle as I try to choose.
Reaching into my pocket, I hope to find twenty five cents.

In the antique shop,
the dust collects in memories made.
Lights illuminate fragile white plates in the china cabinet.
A cheerful tune tinkles in the jewelry box.
Pots and pans with deep scratches once held delightful offerings.

Black leather chairs stand stiffly in a row.
  Warm white cloths cool after a clean shave.
Sharp scissors fire the mind of the barber. 
creative hands cut the hair of many,
while scraps of hair lightly tumble to the tiles. 

White, tall chairs seep with memories, old to new.
Creeks fills the yellow siding. In front of a lonely, empty house, on the porch
a granny watches the feet of millions.
Sweet and innocent, she speaks
as many say good morning or goodnight. 

Flashbacks flip through memories, taking me from the present.
My hand grips my leather suitcase
as my feet step, one after the other, lead inside the trolley,
taking me home again…to
the streets of old Milwaukee.