Pancake Breakfast

May 26, 2009
By Becky Santiago BRONZE, Arlington Heights, Illinois
Becky Santiago BRONZE, Arlington Heights, Illinois
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Wake up early morning to a freshly fallen snow.
The sun takes refuge behind the clouds.
Leave my pajamas on, grab my coat.
Drive down the icy, slush-covered roads
To a place warm and welcoming, like a second home.
For an orange juice and pancake breakfast.

The smell coming from the pancake breakfast
Fills my red tipped nose still cold from the snow.
Dim sunlight seeps through the windows of the home;
Still struggling to get past the clouds.
They travel far, down an unknown road
Without the need for gloves, a hat, a coat.

But I feel the cold, and know I need a coat
When I leave my house for the pancake breakfast.
There’s something about traveling a familiar road;
It’s the same, yet always changing; summer breeze, fall leaves, winter snow.
On days like today, with fallen snow and clouds,
There’s no other place I’d rather be than home.

But what constitutes a home?
Somewhere you put your things; your shoes, your coat?
Somewhere that shades you when there are no clouds?
For me, it’s where I can go to get a pancake breakfast.
Somewhere where I can get a pancake breakfast even after freshly fallen snow
That covers everything like a thick blanket, even the roads.

Luckily, like the back of my hand, I know this road;
The twists and turns, one stoplight, go past two yellow homes.
Then, rain or shine, day or night, spring greens or winter snow,
I will arrive at my second home, carrying, just in case, my coat.
And I will eat, drink and breath a delicious pancake breakfast,
And nothing will bring me down, especially not a couple of clouds.

As we sit, devouring stacks of pancakes, bacon, and fruit, the clouds
Lay yet another layer of snow on the roads,
Trapping us while we eat our pancake breakfast.
But that’s all I want, to forever eat pancakes at my second home
Where I wear my pajamas, on the floor my shoes, on the hanger my coat.
Through the window, I can see the continuous falling of snow.

So let them stay there, those gray clouds over the home
Just down the road, but still I wear my coat
For snow covers the path I take to get to the rich pancake breakfast.

The author's comments:
My name is Becky and I wrote "Pancake Breakfast" after a couple of my friends and I got together for brunch. I was inspired by friends to write about the good time had and the delicious food we ate. I hope you all enjoy it.

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