Pink Lemonade Lip Gloss
I feel the
hot dusty wind in my hair
as I ride my
shiny red bike
to the corner
drugstore
I browse
through the latest 45 records
and remember
sun-filled
younger days playing jump rope and jacks
Grade school
friends
enjoying 35
cent cafeteria lunches
and 50 cent
Saturday matinees
The counter
feels smooth and cool
as I pull an
ice cold vanilla shake through my
red and white
striped straw
My prized
Pink Lemonade Lip Gloss
in a small paper bag I hold
close by my
side
Poem by Judy
Wood Fall 2011
Pastel
Drawing by Jean Hildebrant
