Every cataclysm
should have a day like this. As twilight descends
the squeals of children drawing
with colored chalk on a broken street.
Ears perked at the jangle
of an ice cream truck. Screaming
with delight, begging for cash, making
sure everyone is provided for. Looking
out for each other with intensity you rarely find
outside of foxholes and cults. Sharing ice cream sandwiches,
chocolate banana pops, untroubled
by germs,
or rain.
No comments:
Post a Comment