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Cherry Kuchen

Mother was the only woman

on our street

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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,

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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.

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