Penned With a Friend: Whose Ice

Thursday 16 January 2014 - Filed under Penned by a Friend + Writing

Whose Ice
by Marilyn Brandt Smith and Nancy Scott

You’re not my mother’s ice.
Hers came in big bags
she beat on the floor
turning rocks into gravel
for old-timey ice cream.

You’re not my ice either.
Mine comes from its maker
in symmetrical shapes
ready for blending
with berry, lime, or grape.

You’re clumpy, bumpy stuff.
Sun and salt chase you.
Scrapers send you packing.
Hot water thaws you in car locks.
Shovels and choppers shift blocks.

You hate our shoes
with treads and tacks
that crunch and crack
as we attack
these sheets you lay down.

We slip and grip the gate that’s stuck
and we check twice with grinding teeth
make sure that stubborn outdoor faucet’s off
while you expect to stay for ages,
weeping only as you leave.

2014-01-16  »  Marilyn Brandt Smith