dirt on the welcome mat

Tag Archives: root beer

“Try it, Gammy.”

“Tastes like dishwater.”

According to my great-grandmother,

My favorite soda

Was no better than some soap suds

Mixed with grease,

Floating over food-encrusted pots,

And filling an old yellow sponge

That held as many germs

As the tiny foam bubbles

That fizzed on top of my



Root beer.


Mountain music in his soul,

Skill in his hand,

He swam deep in the ocean,

Painted its beauty from land.


King of boggles and crosswords,

Western Electric retiree,

He worked mathematical puzzles,

Had no college degree.


Loved to argue opinions,

Had his share of life’s hurts,

He smoked Camel cigars

In his red flannel shirts.


Our shared bread and butter

Was Big Red and Root Beer.

We rocked in his hammock

And fished off his pier.