Sometimes we slip suddenly
Into immortal moments
In most unexpected places
Savoring the homemade dill pickles on our nostalgic hamburger
And the onion bun, the cheese a simple statement
So elegant just melted on top.
Hamburger days recall to us
Perhaps a glance out the window, of the greasy spoon
And the sun is setting behind the viridian green pines.
Just across the street.
God must be here the thought comes to you.
Here in Hamburger Heaven
Where my grandparents used to go.
Telling us that story again with its green awninged graces
The sun expiring a sudden flashpoint reflected in their faces.
mary angela douglas 27 march 2024
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