If you’re old enough, you might remember
Records that
we played
On Hi-Fis or
Victrolas;
If you’re
not, I am afraid
You won’t
quite understand
Exactly what
this poem’s about,
Which is
candy shaped like records,
Treats I
cannot do without.
Each is made
of strips of licorice -
The real
stuff, strong and black,
Which is
curled into a circle,
Like those
records from way back.
I bought
them for a penny in
A candy
store near school
And the
middle held a sugar dot,
Bright
reddish, as a rule.
My husband
searched for them online
And buys me three
pound bags.
I have one
every night I’m home
Or else my
spirit sags.
They have no
sugar dots, but still,
Their taste
is just as sweet
As the ones
I brought so long ago
On a local Brooklyn
street.
yes! and that store was called Pennys - where i also bought wax lips, those licorice 'records' and so much other stuff. i'll never forget the shelves at a kid's eye level, behind glass, of all that candy! we could buy as little as we wanted....or as much!
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