What’s
in a Name?
Was
it imitation or appropriation that gave the framers
of
our city’s streets the impetus for naming
them
as if we lived a Merrie Olde existence?
My
morning cycle wheels me past half-timbered
Tudor
castle-lets on sheep-sheared lawns along
the
quiet streets of Berkshire, Essex, Norfolk;
the
shops on Coventry, and yes, down Tudor.
Longer
rides meander Anglified suburban ‘shires’
of
Devon, Derby, Lancashire. And while there’s
neither
Hartford, nor a Hereford, many a Fair Lady
lives
on Hampshire Road—tree-lined and shady.
I
prefer the names that come to mind,
spontaneously
on my evening constitutionals.
This
street surely should be Lilac Lane;
another
could be Mock Orange Blossom Row.
The
roses now are blooming on what used to be
the
fragrant and abundant Avenue of Peonies.
And
though I know this isn’t England - it’s the Heights,
those of us who live here have the privilege
to
bike and walk amid a Botanic Garden of Delights.
Now let's get some tweets going about Cumberland Pool, Cain Park, baseball and tennis - I see you out there on the Middle School courts and running on the track. Tweet me. #htspoetweet
Kathleen
