salivating at
ringing bell like Pavlov's dogs
summer's ice cream truck
--Lauren McBride
Poet’s Notes: I don't remember the ice cream truck playing music when I was little, just the bell ringing which could be heard long before the truck came down our street. Playtime stopped as kids ran home for money and rushed back outside to get in line before the truck arrived. I wasn't allowed to buy ice cream every day but I drooled for it just the same.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.