~ Wiener Water Soup ~

Nineteen-forty-five, the depression lingered on,
The bread line wandered down the street for miles.
The word "depression" fit the situation very well,
Not one person in that bread line wore a smile.

I’d sit and watch the line of people passing by,
While playing with my siblings on our stoop,
Thinking how, when food was scarce at our house,
Our Mom would make us wiener water soup.

She boiled wieners in a pot, but not to eat for supper,
They were cooked with beans another day.
Alphabet macaroni, in broth would make our meal,
Our Mom disguised our hardship as child’s play.

A spelling bee together, family eating soup and bread,
Hot and steamy broth with shapes and loops.
Sitting round the table, finding words inside our bowl,
Of Mom’s delicious wiener water soup.

Copyright©2005 BONNIE TORRENTE