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

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Alone at the Museum

Elise in Beige

The Parade's Gone By