Poor Man's Waffles

08.26.24

Eroding bluff on Marrowstone Island - Aug 2019

Poor Man’s Waffles

There is no such thing as going back. 
Not really. 
Right now, the Douglas squirrels are throwing
their plundered cones from the tops of the firs.
There is no reason this should make me think 
about waffles, the poor man's version: 
peanut-butter over untoasted bread, 
draped in a brand of syrup that wasn't even
remotely related to a thing as real as a maple tree.
But then—there’s the morning's wet grass,
the bittersweet milestone of the sun setting  
as late as 8 PM today for the last time this year. 

The last time you made me poor man's waffles
I wouldn't have known I should mark such a moment.
Just as when I said "Goodbye, Roy" while thinking,
'I should have said, Dad' I didn't know that three days
later you would never be able to come back.

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Roy Cummings. Aug 26, 1938 - January 5, 2000