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Sunday Afternoons After Church

“A photo of my mother and aunt after church in the late 50’s/early 60’s at my aunt’s old house on corner of 28th and T (If memory serves me well, its 28th and T – could be S”… to accompany Sunday Afternoons After Church, a poem by CordieB.

Sunday Afternoons After Church

Oh how I miss the days of old . . .

When family unity was the goal

Of every bright or weary soul

Oh how I miss the lost tradition

When helping hands was the mission

When we knew all our neighbor’s names

When we’d speak to all who peacefully came

walking down the clean sidewalks

stopping for friendly gossip and small talk

When neighbors would watch over the young

and everyone knew every one

when neighbors could spank that ass

for talking smart or acting fast

and then I’d get another one

after the neighbor told my dad or mom

When children still played hide and seek

When strong families always helped the weak

When unity meant what it should

and not simply another cliche’ buzz word

When fathers could not abandon theirs

without humilitation, points and stares

and of course lots and lots of old folk’s prayers

When the corner store owner lived in the neighborhood

and there was no such thing as “living in the hood”

And people usually acted like they knew they should

The Sunday afternoons after church dismissed

When family and neigbors gathered to reminice

And laugh and cry and love each other

and every one was treated like a sister or brother

I miss it all, but alas life goes on

So at least I’ll carry the tradition on

So if you miss those days, come visit soon

My home on Sunday Afternoons

All rights to photo and poem reserved.