THE AUTOMAT
One day, Grandma took
me to Manhattan.
Just the two of us.
Lunch at Horn & Hardart.
Up and down the rows
of windows we'd go.
Macaroni and cheese
in small bowls oozing
cheesy goodness.
Sandwiches cut into two
triangles, their fillings
invitingly exposed.
A hundred slices of pie
on a hundred china plates
behind a hundred
sparkling glass portals.
Feed nickels into a slot
and any one of those
was mine for the taking.
It was enough to take
my breath away.
© 2015 Diane Mayr. All rights reserved.
Lee Bennett Hopkins has challenged us to write a "ME poem" this month, based on one simple moment in your childhood that changed you in some way. Click HERE for more details.
Send your poem to TodaysLittleDitty (at) gmail (dot) com, or use the contact form in the sidebar to the right. All contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration this Friday, September 25th, and one lucky participant will win an autographed copy of Lee's gorgeous new anthology:
Love the way you give us that sense of breathless anticipation with you! So many choices...
ReplyDeleteLove the childlike wonder!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Michelle! Today's my birthday, so this was a gift to me.
ReplyDeleteDiane! Happy birthday, my friend! Your poetry is a gift to all of us. :) Oh, and here's a nickel– spend it on something delicious.
DeleteI never got to go to the automat, or New York City, until I was grown. What a wonderful memory, Diane. Peeking in those little windows must have been such fun.
ReplyDeleteLove the vivid memories you invoke in your poem, Diane, especially the hundred-slice-of-pie stanza. Hope your birthday is as sweet as pie!
ReplyDeleteYes, I remember those days of wonder! Thanks for taking me back to childhood today! I can almost see the array of pie magic!
ReplyDeleteI haven't thought about an automat in years, but this lovely poem brings back memories. Thanks.
ReplyDelete