my dad used to tell me that

his heart broke when the Dodgers

left Brooklyn.

he said they changed the formula

for the orange drink at Nathan's

and it never tasted the same again.

he saw doo-wop at the Paramount,

now the gymnasium of my college,

and Buffalo Avenue was the

entire world.

there was always some melancholy

when he talked about those days,

as if something died, and buried his

childhood along with it.

but I think the buttons would pop off

of his shirt with pride

when my daughter smiles and says

'I'm from Brooklyn.'