Lunch Lady

by revbillcook

Under a yellow umbrella

the hot dog vendor stirs

her cauldron of bubbling sauerkraut,

air thick with the smell of sausage.

.

Children running from kick ball

and hop scotch, mesmerized,

stop to watch hot dogs slowly turn

above the glowing orange grill.

.

Adults reading their papers,

pay no attention

to her quiet incantations,

and never notice the moon

rising in her dark eyes.

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