Wednesday, June 24, 2015

A Poem for Summer

There’s a white Chevy ice cream van
playing Greensleeves
                                on my street.
As I mow the lawn I hear
the canned music.

My daughter, her brows pursed,
stops the van
                                and speaks.
“What song is this, who, laid
to rest / on Sandford Ave is beeping?”

The driver is an old Italian guy
selling popsicles.
He looks at my daughter and says,
“You no like-a?
There are two other songs
on this truck.
                                Here they are.”

He plays them.
                My girl winces.
                “You see?” he says.

My daughter tells him
it’s OK. Go on.
                Give us          
                               Christmas in summer.

Give us this mixture of seasons
that flicker
                for a moment
                                and then are gone.

She buys an ice pop
                                and he drives off,
While fireflies, their silent anthems sweet,
                                venture out to play.