Lee Evans

The world, they say, is leather clad
To one in leather shoes,
As pavement covers history
For shuffling multitudes:

And careless steps of time tramp down
The turmoils of the past.
Beside the crosswalk one must wait,
And breathe the noxious gas

Of trucks and cars that stop and go
About the passers by—
Where just before he steps to cross,
A trolley driver cries

To edify his passengers,
And loudly to be heard,
“You, there--you’re standing on the site
Of the Boston Massacre!”