Tears fall down and trail

into

the iced cream

that's pale white and blue,

and despite sugar flow that cools me,

old recipes just show blues,

as I drop dollars to the ground

meant for the tip jar to hear sounds

of jingles exploit as frowns do

nothing much to change the mood,

that's changed and lifted by the croon,

but the laughter don't hide you.

My memory's right and on and cruel,

maybe, but still i thank the blue

skies in their Infinite White Wisdom

for the light that's my heart-lifted,

the loss can't matter and won't,

the sweetness shows beneath the blow

that came the day I let you go,

the kiss I blow but every day

is meant for you, my love I pray,

for you.

Copyright 2008 Rose Loya