Pancakes are round

Pancakes are round.

They smell of childhood’s forgotten memories.

They bring with them like a stab to the heart,

of children who have left the hearth,

They are warm, yellow and crispy

the way I like them.

But they make me feel lonely,

isolate, as an adult,

They are Robinson Crusoe food,

marooned on a deserted island.

Did he miss pancakes?

Jam and then some with cheese,

and maybe some for tomorrow's breakfast,

used to freeze some for a quick snack for the children.

Pancakes are round or ought to be

but they give nostalgia a new meaning.