we were innocent souls

on the corner selling

lemonade for a quarter

handing out kindness

and smiles for free

one afternoon

my three friends and me

we were suppose to

be raising money

for our treehouse

we wanted furniture

and curtains to

adorn the space

so we could sleep

there on the weekends

every Thursday afternoon

we found ourselves

on the corner

with our stand

and our pitcher

cups and cubes

and language of

well spoken licorice

candies – sweet

and innocent and

America’s favorite

The clientele

was always plentiful

although the street

was never too busy

Mr. Winthers across

the street drank most

of the lemonade

when activity slowed

down, and even helped

us get a pretty rug

for our treehouse

came from his late wife’s

estate

we never really had a

care, a worry or a clue

that some of our clients

would do the things

they would do

or at least the one

in particular

on this Thursday

afternoon

pulled up in his car

apparently my friend

knew him, said he was

friends with her father

he ordered 4 lemonades

to go and asked my friend

if she wanted a ride home

we were almost done

so she said yes

we all hugged and kissed

our friend goodbye

and finished our lemonade

stand for the last time

a week had gone by

no word from our friend

her parents unsure

if the torment would end

we never knew the

dangers of trusting those

we had always known

didn’t even doubt

his intentions

didn’t know our friend

would never return home

we decided to still

keep the treehouse in tact

although we knew our friend

was never coming back

but we grew up

that week after we said goodbye

a lemonade stand

now houses a pitcher

of broken lives

 

FJ original 2016