Ingrained

I'll never forget the peddler
who sold paper bags of roasted chestnuts
The heat seeped through my mittens
I'll never forget the pushcart with hot sweet potatoes
cooked over coals. I juggled the potato from
hand to hand--waiting, then squeezed the sides
I'll never forget the peddler who sold marshmallows
on a stick. He twirled that stick in a boiling
cauldron of jelly while we watched in awe.
I recall the knife sharpener with his grindstone
calling out "Knives to sharpen." I'll never forget
the call of "I cash clothes," from the peddler
who bought used clothing. My grandmother
gave him hot tea during the winter. I'll never forget
pickles floating in wooden barrels or potato knishes,
or sauerkraut, or hot pastrami sandwiches, or
egg creams, or the seltzer man who delivered
glass bottles of seltzer to every family on our floor.
I'll never forget.





PAD. Day 20. Prompt: I'll never...