Piercing The Silence
When i heard his shout,
I thought yes, he has returned home,
The bell on the ice cream cart
Tinkled, a hot Sunday afternoon.
Children in the nearby houses
Screamed, running barefooted
Into the dusty country road,
For ice cream, in tubs and on sticks.
Bring me a large plastic bag!
I want to buy some ice cream sticks,
To keep in the fridge,
For when the grand kids come by.
© gillena cox 2025
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