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