he took it with him
the smell
of fresh blackberries
churned
into cold cream
surrounded
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
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!