Poetry of the Soul

Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn. ~Thomas Gray

The Last Ice Cream Truck November 29, 2009

Filed under: poetry — laurenmichelleotheim @ 9:52 pm

The sun beats down on me: walking, walking.  Its warm fingertips brush my hair: I am walking, walking still.  The air is still, save for a warm breeze so gentle not even the rose petals stir.  The breaths of air carry soft, faint notes gracefully through the tree branches where they dance among the leaves.  The music calls me back in time to 10 years old.  My tenth summer was bare feet in the grass, explorations of the Old West with the neighborhood boys, and the last of the ice cream trucks.  As the tinny notes struck a familiar chord my ears perked and I had the inevitable urge to run home and beg quarters from my parents.  I remember chasing the ice cream man down my street as he threw tootsie rolls out an open window to my brother and I.  I remember when my Dad chased the ice cream truck in the car because it was too far for Connor and I to run.  I remember 50 cent ice cream sticks with frosting faces and gumball noses.  As the last stanza fades into the distance I wish silently for one last ice cream truck.

(c) Lauren Otheim – 2009

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