Ice Cream Sundae free verse by Asa McManamy
His hands, weathered from long days in the shop, show scars from years past. The cracked skin on his knuckles reminds me of ground starved for water. The callouses along the skin where fingers meet palm scrape my face, but I still love him. I can’t blame him for his little outbursts. He makes it up to me with a bowl of Blue Bell and some Hershey’s chocolate sauce. I can tell that it weighs on him. He’s trying his best. Mom left us four years ago, which is fine, because I didn’t really know her, not like dad. Her red hair glows on that picture taped to the fridge–– them both smiling years before I came into this world.
90
The Talon 2022
Written under the mentorship of David Huddle
