Icecream
Malia Paasch

As I sat, thoughtfully, on that chilling day,
With my frozen desert in front of me,
And the stirring of people
Whisking by
My thoughts were swept with them

Enjoying the breeze, of the crisp season,
With rake in my hand
To deprive my fifty feet tall friends
Of gazing at their once was
Covering

Smiling friends blossom all around
And I accompany them
The subtle warmth of colors
Penetrates the frosty outer layer
Of the time

There’s nothing especially unique
About this specific time
Except that I was born
And to this day
Without rhyme or reason, it will always be mine

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