sonora2sonoma

Eating ice cream with a fork

Watching it’s buttery goodness

slip slowly down into the recesses of my hand

in hot awe!

Surrender!

Sweet syrupy sugary surrender!

Cherry Garcia of my heart surrender!

coursing along the delineations of my fingers

following an inclination toward nothing in particular

or considerable mischief

open-ended and succinct

dallying in saccharine sunlit pools of ecstasy . . .

Timeless!

Eating ice cream with a fork

***

Eating ice cream with a fork

On a lazy Sunday afternoon on Thursday

Feeding a hunger more defined by what it is not

than by what it is

Is the answer the question?

Is the meaning of life an off-handed remark

thrown by a dark boy in a smoke-filled alleyway

in Syria?

Is it the departure of an old friend? The arrival of a new one?

An old refrain or a new lullaby?

A tear shed in joy? Or a song for the ages?

Is it the iridescence of a spider’s web caught in the dew of dawn’s bright embrace?

Or is it the courage to take yet another step?

Is it, ummm, the Donald? Nope!

It is all these things

and even that one

Especially that one!

***

Eating ice cream with a fork

On a lazy Sunday afternoon on Thursday . . .

Lying like a Grouper tucked in among the kelp

Waiting for a little minnow to pass by . . .

10 September 2015

Tim Konrad