Cool

You wish the shave ice
would cool you more, chill you to the core,
maybe with the help of the shade
from these monkeypod trees, overarching,
well-shaped, older than I am, for sure,
so carefully kept.

We used to run around here, play games,
Chase Master, Red Rover, so far away
from caring about anything at all it doesn’t
even seem that happened in this lifetime.

God, the sun is so intense, this August heat
makes this a great place to melt ice,
or an old valentine tucked safely inside my shirt.
I can feel my face, beet red and sweaty,
shining on, a glimpse of that other life, a different path,
a sigh, a groan.  Massive shade.  A green world.

An old woman feeds the birds
crowding around her bench.  You can tell
she has been doing this for a long time.
The birds know her well, eat from her hand,
perch on her shoulders.

A tiny boy tears through the flock
causing them to scatter, a clamor
of wings.  He runs up and asks me
what flavor I bought.  If my sister
were here, she’d scold him, tell him
not to scare the birds.

I look at his face, “Li hing,”
and picture a puzzled son
seeking some perfect answer.

* * * * *

Today’s word is

games

Write anything, even just a sentence, using the word and then post it and link to me, or simply leave it in the comments below. I would love to read what you write.

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