"Fresh Pretzel, Get Your Fresh Pretzel!
Punchclock people
Rush across cobblestone streets
Lined with trolley tracks.
William Penn perches atop City Hall.
Reading wantads on a damp wooden bench.
Stuffed belongings
In mother's "telling" birthday gift
Two blue suitcases.
Left home, never going back!
Felt like just another plate
At the kitchen table.
Sofasurfing at seventeen.
"Fresh Pretzel, Get Your Fresh Pretzel!"
A voice in my ear,
The Pretzel Man smiling,
"Young Lady you look like you need
A fresh pretzel today."
He gave me one,
Smeared with yellow mustard
Just the way I like it.
"Have a good day," he says.
Punchclock people
Rush across cobblestone streets
Lined with trolley tracks.
Pretzel Man hawking,
"Fresh Pretzel, Get Your Fresh Pretzel!"
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Author:
Joan Reese (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 17th, 2025 21:21
- Comment from author about the poem: Growing up in Philly: there seemed to be a Pretzel Man on every corner. I left home at 18 with only $20 in my pocket. I didn't want to spend 5 cents to buy a pretzel but I wanted one and the Pretzel Man knew it. I needed an act of kindness that day!
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 17
- Users favorite of this poem: Damaso
Offline)
Comments3
I like the sentiment of the write, a little kindness can mean so much and go along way, enjoyed the read
Thank You
You are very welcome
Kindness is appreciated more when a person is in need. Life can be hard and a little charity and humanity goes a long way. Nice
Thanks
You are welcome
Joan, this is so vivid and full of heart. The rhythm of the city moves through every stanza...but the kindness from the Pretzel Man centers the whole piece. Knowing it came from your own story makes it hit even deeper. A moment remembered...and honored. 🌹👏 Welcome to MPS. I am looking forward to more.
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