Ice Cream Hands
Ice Cream Hands
Stepping on that cobblestone walkway
It's just another July afternoon
High and one hundred out
Before my old home, I feel young
And I fall back into a time
Where I ran to that front door
Saw that brass door knob
Ding dong, ding dong
The doorbell, obnoxious doorbell
I remember it all too well
Even now, I see the stains from
Days of ice cream and toppings
Covering that door better than the paint
It's a sweltering day for ice cream
Yet I always managed to lose it
Down my fingers and hands, the syrup
Candy, whipped cream, cool feeling
It would all be on me instead of my mouth
All I'd ever get were the pralines
And only they would melt on my tongue
Upset, I'd go for that brass knob
Grab it with my ice cream hands
And yank it open out of disappointment
Leaving my sweet fingerprints behind
Even today, I feel them there
Those sticky hands grabbing tight
Holding on with what life I have lived
Each drop that was lost from the cone
Running down my knuckles and wrists
And once more, I touch the door
Pulling the knob and letting myself in
Those fingerprints now on my hands
Just like the ice cream I never ate
I still have ice cream hands years later
Only this time, I'm not running to the sink
To wash them clean
-Copyright 2009: Carter Tachikawa
And now I have a headache.
~CT