Golden brown, puffed-up squares,
have a slight crispness that breaks
away, revealing warm vanilla scented
sponges of floury goodness, made with a touch
of some emotion and attention to detail.
Enhancements may include: sparkling maple
syrup from the forests of Vermont, or the sticky
backyard product variety of aunty J;
toppings and powders and jellies, maybe fruit
or even nuts, but otherwise generically acceptable
without any of these.
Some of us grew up eating waffles,
never questioning their purpose or usefulness,
recalling (or not) fond memories of their taste,
the environment and décor or lack there of;
of the people that made them or cleaned up
the dirty dishes waffles tend to leave behind,
and finally - what manner of adventure or trauma
may have topped the plate that day
or month, or year.
We eat our waffles with a smile,
and stare at them until the tears run out.
We eat our waffles with anger and feelings
of longing for resolution,
But I will w