The hugger’s wish has a touch of joy,
Like ice from the old pond ridge,
Delivering block ice for the fridge,
Weekly arriving by the ice-man employee.
He gave kids a free piece to melt and chew.
How we waited for that delivery,
It made us feel all cool and shivery.
Such memory can a hot spirit renew.
Children gathered to ask for a piece,
Humid summers had their treat,
A welcome gift, a true release.
We waited to wish a pleasant greet,
And, get a handful cube, a magical feat,
Ice was once a youthful conceit.
Francis Conlon is a retired and recovering teacher. For the past 20 years, he has worked as a seasonal river ranger and boat inspector at Yampa River State Park in northwest Colorado. He has published in the local Valley Voice and in Westward Quarterly. He currently lives in Salt Lake City, Utah.