I’ve lived in Rochester all my life.
So many memories:
Starry night skies and crickets singing their starry night songs.
Juicy pink watermelon picnics with
Golden, toasty marshmallows hot and gooey on the end of a stick.
Huge piles of dry crunchy brown leaves burning at the curb.
Frozen icy ponds and frozen icy toes.
Racing my Daddy down the street — Who thought he’d win?
Riding the bus to work in my green waitress dress, white apron tight
around my waist — off to the Sibley Luncheonette.
Kissing that brown-eyed boy in the high school halls, my heart going
And going pitter pat as I walked down the aisle, white dress flowing, to meet him.
Long city walks with the kids in the stroller
And searching for our lost cat — Jack O’Lantern, where are you?
As I live and breathe,
As I dance and sing,
As I laugh and cry,
As I love and am loved.
This is my Rochester.
This is my home.
—Diane Rivoli, Greece