Poetry

A Blessing

written by: emmad802

We smoked on the the porch
215 south prospect street
discussing the magistic flavors
of ice cream.

"Oh, the ice cream man..." he dreams.
I tell him there never was one
In the valleys of Vermont
Where ice cream was bought
At the country store or market.

But, I consider my not knowing
The feeling of hearing a truly jolly tune; kicking
Flip flops off to run
Through a maze of pavement and identical homes;
While the sun hid
Behind a layer of smoggy clouds: a blessing.