Sweet: A Half-Found Poem on 3 Coffees on Ice
The sun is still out.
Warm. So hot. So bright.
The rain they predicted
We’ll sit inside
in the cool air.
Three, for here,
on ice, please.
We’ll sit here a while.
We walked all over this town. Now this tastes good.
They relax into their chairs
and the two parents listen to the grown daughter
She planted a garden. It’s growing and lush.
Greens. Radishes. Tomatoes. Leeks.
The parents are not from here.
This will be a short visit.
The daughter adds
a spoonful of raw sugar and stirs,
spoon and ice tapping her glass As they sip and smile and stare out
big windows into the afternoon.
The mother motions and
the daughter passes the raw sugar
across the table.
This is sweet, she says
and they all smile and nod
knowing that it is.