Sunbury

These are the recollections of an old town

Where streets are encumbered with uneven pavements

And small businesses face uncertain economies

Yet it is here, in the midst of faces, hardened by poverty

That the rich tones and memorable notes of Sunbury must be remembered; the

Susquehanna shifting alongside her shore, as lithe boats flit across iridescent waves

And an old grey wall stands sentinel, offering testament to the tales of a great

Flood.

It is here where the moans of the daily trains chug down the old tracks,

And the air, electrified with the past, still echoes the librettos of Lorenzo Da Ponte

This is where you breathe the daily Market Street aroma of the Squeeze In, where

even now one can feast on hotdogs, chips and soda for a beggar’s fee

While enjoying its notoriety for its inclusion in the Guinness Book of World Records

For its smallness.

There are other memories not to be forgotten; a certain Hotel Edison whose

ghosts whisper of a time when Edison arrived, searching for new

Methods of light, and photos, still clinging to the hotel lobby walls

Depicting an image of a little ghost boy, still mesmerizing guests and reminding us

That even in the fires of regret, one can still arise victorious!