Nostalgia

[rollingbrianjones]

From a bench on a bluff in a park off a street (I really enjoyed the relentless prepositions... and managed to build the image perfectly as the line moves along, bravo, so much in a line)
with a school and a church and a mill that ground wheat, (struggled a little continuing building the image, I easily envisioned the park bench on the bluff with an entrance to a street, perhaps at the edge of town... then a school and church I could imagine on the street... though already a bit much to take in by here- then the mill made me think a bit more rurally again as I picture mills in a field, not on a street with a school/church. Almost made me go from park to built up area back to field/mill. Though, I assume you describe a real place from your past?)
there’s a view of a lake that’s so grey and so bleak (this threw in a nice juxtaposition with the cutesy little scene I'd thus far pictured!)
that I’d sit and pretend I was looking at feet. (got a bit lost with this bit, felt like a bit of a grab at rhyme and meter- though again I assume there is some real experience being noted. Made me think of pretending to look at your feet as people walk past... but I read literally as it suggests that you are looking at the bleak scene but pretending to look at feet?! Think I am missing something here. Feel free to explain will perhaps further my enjoyment of reading!).

There’s a field by the shops where the children would play
with our baseballs and bats ‘til one mother would say
“All you kids should go home, or there’ll be hell to pay” (I think "there'll be hell to pay" isn't as easy off the tongue as the rest of the poem, thought again you are concentrating on nailing rhyme/meter perhaps at the cost of the overall experience of the reader?)
but my dad was a drunk, and could not be waylaid. (I read this as your dad is playing with you and wasn't having any of the stopping the baseball, a lovely image if I read that correctly. And also if as I perceived it, your dad drunk being one of the kids is a great image too.)

There were folks in the town that were folksy and sweet (mixed previous comments on folksy- I love it- know exactly what you mean)
like the butcher’s wife Joan who would package our meat, (hah, a bit obvious with the double entendre, no!?)
who opined with a smile that our cut was unique (really like the use of opined thrown in after the childlike language use to this point)
having been the hind leg of a stillborn black sheep. (yuck - did she actually tell you this or is this an omniscient narrator!?)

All in all, really enjoyed reading this. 
Was a bit confused at times (end of stanza 1) but loved the "read out loud" quality of it, and the childlike, mainly single syllable word use in a fairly complex structure which I think you have used well. 
For me, it created a simple vision of a simple scene of a simple life- very effectively. So hope that was your intention :

RBJ