Cherry Kuchen
Mother was the only woman
on our street
who knew how to drive a car.
On steamy hot July days
she would load up the old Essex
with Pat, myself, and neighbor kids,
drive to Grand View Beach....
Funny songs, knock-knock jokes,
wet bathing suits, slapjack,
chocolate custard, sunburned shoulders.
She always packed a tasty lunch,
sandwiches, fruit, and cherry kuchen.
The kuchen, magical - like summer dreams -
bright, colorful, delicious, sweet,
always wonderful - even better remembered.
Mother liked to say
it was the cinnamon and ginger ale
she added to the crust.
