he took it with him


the smell

of fresh blackberries



into cold cream



by salt and ice

smiles and laughter


an old wooden bucket

of ice cream by the lake


cousins swimming

amongst creepy fish

leaping from the boat


racing for purple streaked cones

handmade by my uncle 


recipe forever gone


just like him

One thought on “22~9

  1. Wow, beautiful poem! I like the concrete imagery and the way you conjure the scene in a nostalgic moment and connect it with your uncle. The sensory details–“smell of fresh blackberries”–and precise word choice are fantastic. I love the lines “creepy fish leaping from the boat” and “racing for purple streaked cones / handmade by my uncle.” As I re-read the poem, the first line has even more of an impact. Great poem!

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