she sat outside
the gas station
dressed in all black
sobbing alone and
eating an ice cream cone
i don’t know
the exact sequence
of events
that leads one
presumably from
a dour funeral
to the dirty sidewalk
outside a busy
gas station
but i can see
all the signs
of a complete break

i have been there
not exactly there
never considered
an ice cream cone
but in the same
general vicinity
on a few different
unhappy situations
so i make a note
to get cones tomorrow
just to maybe see
if it could help
and as she walks away
i hope whatever it is
eating her up
the long tongue of sorrow
catching her every
falling tear
is gone as fast
as an ice cream
on a hot summer day


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