School Road, they call it now.
It reaches to the water’s edge.
Frothing foam, swirling tides reach out
To rip the rag weed and the sage.
School Road whose vision extends far
Beyond the span of years-,
Where children frolicked to the school
Or wept their childhood tears.
The building, old, forlorn, paint-stripped,
By whistling wind and cloud burst rain
Will never more send back the call
That shrieks of youth again.
School Road, they call it now;
How prim and proper too,
From once the florid, vibrant sound
Cat Alley when ’twas new!
Names tell a tale we oft would hide.
Cat Alley shrieks of sin;
But Old School Road somehow disdains
The scent of dirt within.
This little town with all its wealth
Of lurid takes long past,
Holds high its head because it knows
Cat Alley’s gone at last.
– Circa 1968