| |
|
If you can find
a parking place and table,
Sherri will greet you
across the noisy crowd.
While you are deciding or eating
will come round to give hugs,
kiss the top of your husband's head.
She calls us all sweetheart
or honey and we eat it up.
In the same place on U.S. Hwy. 2
since the thirties,
Twin Gables has been
through wars and fires
and different owners
but it has never buzzed like now.
Sherri isn't just peddling food,
she's serving home-cooked happy.
From Reflections (2024).
Used here with permission.
|

Peggy Trojan, after a career of teaching English, retired to the north woods of Wisconsin. There, she and her husband, David, with the help of family, built a house next to a trout stream. Peggy stays busy writing and making jam from the raspberry patch she carefully and lovingly tends. Peggy is a member of the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets, and is the author of two full-length poetry collections and six chapbooks. Learn more about her here.
|
|
|
There are no comments for this poem yet.
|
|
|