Lime Sherbet
My father
Sat me on the fading vinyl-covered stool
His grandfather sat him upon
And placed the order exactly the same
As then,
Lime sherbet,
The impermanence of objects
- Like a vector hallway -
Only outlines green
Yet possibly sweet.
Her grin entices,
Tempting,
Promising nothing
But a moment's sugar tang
On top the tongue.
The seat beside me
At the soda fountain countertop
Is always empty.
- 4/22/26
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