The Good Humor Man Changeth with Time.

The ice cream truck bell rang,

and we poured out of doors

a spring river overflowing her banks.

It was the Spring of life,

when pennies in pockets

were saved for this special treat, a celebration.

We stood, we danced in line,

waiting to claim our treasure.

It took time to save those pennies,

earned through dusting, cleaning, chores.

But it was worth it.

Now, we stand in line again

not for ice cream,

but at the pharmacy, chatting with others,

being pleasant,

waiting, waiting...

for small bottles of magic that help us live.

It is the Winter of life,

where all seems slower,

a little cloudy.

We work hard for dollars

to pay another person in a white coat

but not the Good Humor Man.

It is not a treat anymore

to linger in the line.

But perhaps it should be.

Perhaps we should still be dancing,

delighting in the science,

the alchemy that sustains us.

For this, too, is magic.

And we-

we are worthy of it.