“Ice Cream”

Lucky 7. Onto my last of three words given over to me by my friend, Sunde. Thank you, Sunde. You’ve helped me to get a way from the more serious side of the project, but allowing me to have some fun with whimsical ideas. Hope you all enjoy this one. As they say, “I scream, you scream, we all scream, for ice cream.”

 

“Ice Cream”

 

What’s better than watching kids eat ice cream?

A simple, unbounding joy.

It takes me back to when I could disappear into something.

A long languid lull,

Of lifting limbs to chins.

Thousands of moments of meditation and focus,

Could not cultivate the single-pointed concentration,

Children bring to bear when eating sweetened frozen sureties.

Nothing exists outside of that cone.

Tongues and eyes in unison.

Coagulated cream,

Coupled with conjoined comportment,

Creates cone contentment.

Dialed in, digits firmly grasping the delectable delight.

Chubby knuckles, cracked white with a gargoyle’s grasp.

Worn sneakers and unstrapped sandals,

Dangling off deck chairs.

A medium metronome,

Mitigating melting milk treats.

Rolling cream drip, drip, drips.

Plump pudgy hands cannot contain futile napkins.

Paper waste meant to inhibit and slow the flow,

Remain as useful as bifocals to a blind man.

Misguided, melty mix,

Falls off onto the surface.

A trail mix.

A melted mold of past giggles.

A path to bliss becomes obvious,

As cream coalesces on the heels of carefree journeys.

Lying at the end of a lake dock,

Looking up into the perfection of a clear blue sky,

One leg skimming the surface.

Creating a situation for the eco-system below.

Echo, Echoing again.

A lazy summer daze,

Brought back into focus,

By a sudden urgency to consume the developing chaos.

A smile.

Licked fingers.

Sticky fingers, still.

Difficult mess, forever unclean.

No quarter from the cone consequence.

Just the comfort of crunching the last bit.

Satisfied in that.

Staring off into the distance.

Dreaming of the promise of the long languid lull.

Where we can return again,

To being lost in the contentment of leisure.

There is nothing better than watching kids eat ice cream.

A simple, unbounding joy.

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