Thursday, August 6, 2015

A gratitude poem for Mike's in Hood River



You can have yours
in the shop’s small yard
teeming with four generations
of tourists
holding your caramel mocha fudge
above the snout
of an ardent canine
just as eager
to lick your hand
as the cone.
You can have yours on a bench
high above the street
near the library
savoring the strawberry swirl
as Mt Adams blesses you.
You can take yours
down the street
and let the butter pecan
banana double scoop
flow over your fingers
as your eye gets caught
by some shop-window beauty.
But best is to do it solo
sitting on the high curb
in the shade of your car
concerned only with the marks
your tongue makes
in the mint chocolate chip.

Jill Kelly, 2015

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