Coke or Pepsi?

another old blog entry, converted to verse

Coke -- but you know I

miss it in those little green

glass bottles.  Those old

chest-like Coke machines -- open

the hinged lid, and there

were rows of frosty

green glass bottles suspended by

their necks -- put in your

nickel (yes, I said nickel)

and slide your bottle down the row,

lift it out and pop

the bottle cap. Ummmm, so cold,

so wonderfully

cold, flakes of ice floating in

that bubbling dark stuff. So when

your grandma tells you

Cokes were better in her youth,

it is true, they were.

We would visit this little

country store down in southeast

Missouri near my

dad’s mom;  this little store had

an old chest like that.

In fact, before I left home,

I went with my mom and dad

to visit, and we

went to that same little store.

The floor was bare wood,

and it was worn as smooth as

silk,  barely perceptible

hollows right in front

of the Coke chest where

over the long years,

countless barefoot children had

shuffled their feet in summer

heat as they fished deep

in their pockets for nickels.

I can see those kids,

laughing in worn summer garb.

In Missouri it’s soda.

 

Reviews

[Angi]

Annie, this poem is so full of nostalgia. I love that it took me back in time, to a simpler time. The boys feet shuffling in front of the coke machine is such a sweet image. I can actually picture them. The last line had me laughing. I grew up in Illinois. It is soda there, too! Enjoyed. Angi~

[annie lee]

Thanks, Angi. I enjoyed the memories that were the building blocks of this poem. Rural Missouri was like the end of the world to my little sister and me. Walking down that dusty turning row to the tiny store to buy Cokes was always a treat. And there was a little wooden grocery store called Golightly's across the highway. Those were the best Cokes.

[icelandicblue]

Oh you capture the essence of a bottle of coke in those thick green bottles perfectly. My husband still insists that if I buy Coke it comes in the glass bottle but it is not the same. This is a wonderfully nostalgic poem that takes me back to the cool fresh taste of summer. In Boston it was tonic. ; )

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

I really liked this piece; it reminded me of my grandmother. She was a coke-a-holic, and back in the day when they used to sell the syrup, she would mix her own. The story really came to life for me in the imagery used; the old fashioned bottles, the machines, the nickles (my grandpa still talks about penny candy and nickle soda :), and the last line, "In Missouri it's soda" really got me, because I have friends across the U.S., and some call it "pop", some call it "soda", and some call every carbonated drink under the sun a "coke". Well written...a journey indeed.

[annie lee]

Thank you. I appreciate your reading and your detailed review.