Treasure Island

Bill Grace


Chasing the Ice Cream Truck - a Happy Poem


My friend says to me:
“Write a happy poem.”
Not being sure where they come from
I say
sure
but do not know for sure
that I can keep my word
with even words,
as the case may be.

Walking the dog
in that pleasant end of day time
the merry sound of the ice cream
truck
anoints the evening
with a tin jingle -
from a side street
it careens around the corner
and disappears.

Again, I do not know from where –
I think she had black hair –
youthful
slightly buxom
fresh
flushed face beauty
and beauty to be
she is running – south
from my north,
“Which way did the ice cream truck go? ”
she demands.

Pell-mell she proceeds in pursuit
to catch and be caught
by her happy prey.

I wonder if
God was listening,
for a happy poem came
as well as a pretty girl
with flowing black hair
on a pleasant evening
walk,
I would capture here.

Submitted: Monday, April 28, 2014
Edited: Tuesday, April 29, 2014

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Topic(s): walking

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