Time to Write a Poem

April 2 The Iceman Cometh

The ice Man Cometh

As A kid I always loved
going to my grandmothers house.
She was my father’s mother,
(but we all called her Mom.)
and his three grown brothers
still lived there.
The house vibrated with energy.
Today. I’d call it testosterone.

I spent a lot of time
in her kitchen. Tea parties
and helping Mom and Mama
prepare meals for the pack.
Against the back wall
was a rectangular white box
with two latched doors
and every Thursday
the ice man would come.
He wore a brown leather apron
with his sleeves rolled up,
he carried huge prongs
that gripped a big block of ice
that he then put into the top of the box.
In summer, Mom
would chip off some shards
for me to suck on.

I was about ten when,
the brothers, including my dad,
pooled their money
and bought her an electric
refrigerator! It was a big deal.
A surprise, almost a holiday.
But I think I preferred
the old white icebox
and the shards of ice Mom would gift me.
                             ~~ Judi Van Gorder

Notes ▼

34 Lines of Free Verse
Prompted by "April 2 Poem--Breaking the ice"