Rosemary Pancakes And Toast Poem by John W. McEwers

Some ladies like sausage
some like bacon and eggs
and some still choose the comfort of cereal
for their morning meal
but you,
you wanted rosemary pancakes with
30 dollar syrup.
They don't make rosemary pancakes for the grocery in town,
I don't know if they even make them in general.
You made me make them from scratch
day after tedious day
and I loved doing it
until I didn't.

You left me years ago, Kate
and years enough to move on for most,
but most aren't in such rosemary debt.
My hands still smell like your pancakes
and I can't lick them clean
and neither can my cat
and that's like sandpaper
sandpaper won't get it off.