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A Poem for David

Katie Kowalski

You eat ice cream when the leaves turn red.
My lips hurt. It can’t work for me
unless the season’s right, but you savour
the sweetness anyway.

I use my quarter for the jukebox,
but you walk out without your jacket.
I want to make the most of my money,
then I run out to see what has changed.

You tell me how it is to see an almond moon
while I think about the heat.
I tell you about the song I just heard
So you’ll tell me why you don’t like ice cream.