IF THEY TURNED OFF THE POWER IN BROOKFIELD VILLAGE IN 1957

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IF THEY TURNED OFF THE POWER IN BROOKFIELD VILLAGE IN 1957

by

Sheryl J. Bize-Boutte

If they turned off the power in Brookfield Village in 1957

The air would be overfed noisy with voices

Sprinkled with sugar

From that girl who always laughs the loudest

Roller skates whirring on pavement

Interrupted in syncopated rhythm

by the evenly spaced cracks

Bikes tearing up black asphalt

wearing headlights

And AM radios

Blasting KYA and KEWB

Because the power would have been turned off

At KSOL

If they turned off the power in Brookfield Village in 1957

No one would be inside

Except stinky old lady

Frances from France she said she was

Cause she never came out anyway

But she had the old icebox

To save us all

And the smoke filling the air

Would not be from distant fires

In neighborhoods we had never heard of

Or sidewalked on

Or bicycled on

Or radioed on

But from the bbq pits

In the center of every back yard

And from outdoor fireplaces

Surrounded by children

Making marshmallows golden gooey

While they giggled and laughed right into the

No school tomorrow

If they turned off the power in Brookfield Village in 1957

We would have known

How we all were doing

By sight

Touch

Smile

Voices that came straight

From human mouths

We could not be shut down

Without access

To next door

We would just

Walk

Next

Door

And knock

And ask if

Everyone was all right

And then if

Mr. Butler or Mr. Osgood

had enough gas in the Buick

or the Chevy

To go to the other side of town

Where we heard

 the lights were still on

If they would be brave enough

To take the chance

On unapproved entry

Into forbidden territory

For more ice

 And cigarettes

and royal crown if they had any

with the blue velvet bag

that would be mine this time

And be sure to get the ice cream

We would all scream

As we watched them slowly drive away

Then we would have waited nervously

And played with a nagging knowing

Flash and candlelight ready

for their safe and victorious return

And oh lord

When we could yell

Here they come

The air would return and

We would run to meet them

As they turned the corner

We would open their doors

Before the complete stop

And they

With unsteady hands removing caps

brow sweat revealed

peppered with questions

wringing hands and broad smile rapid talk

would release the bloat

in stomachs filled with stories

about what may have happened

if they turned off the power

in Brookfield Village

in 1957

copyright© 2019 by Sheryl J. Bize-Boutte

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