Popsicle
me and Mary,
swinging our legs
as we sat on the bench
in front of Sam’s Drugstore,
enjoying our orange popsicles
sticky hands,
looking up at the man
climbing the utility pole,
tools in his belt making a jingle-jangle
sound as he made his way
up
my mommy was inside Sam’s,
talking to the pharmicst in
a hushed voice, my Aunt Margie
at her side–it was she who gave
me and Mary
our popsicles
the sun came out from
behind the grey clouds,
so we licked our popsicles
quickly–
racing the heat,
the climbing man,
the pharmicist
filling a plastic bottle
Mary finished hers first,
wiping her hands on her dress
and smiling over at me,
then, telling me all about
the new doll her mother
was going to get her for her birthday
the scary police man drove past,
in his loud car, smiling at us
from the driver’s seat–
he said something,
I don’t know what, but
Mary dropped her popsicle stick and
ran inside the drugstore
I kept at my popsicle,
juice all over my hand,
the man on the pole
shouting something
into a walkie-talkie
across the street,
I saw the Dargan’s dog,
peeing on a fire hydrant