For the first time in too many years
she treated herself to a softee,
a tall chocolate swirl
rising from a small cone.
It begged for her tongue.
She obliged. Licked and slurped,
tried to keep the sides
from dripping down her white shirt.
Settled at a picnic table under a pine tree
she watched the traffic on Main St. flow by.
She listened to teens just out of school,
watched a mother manhandle a twin stroller,
heard birds above her head bicker and sing.
The creamy sweetness of chocolate
tickled her taste buds, reminded her
she didn’t have to pare everything good
out of her pared-down life.
About the Author: Patricia Wellingham-Jones
Patricia Wellingham-Jones is a widely published former psychology researcher and writer/editor. She has a special interest in healing writing, with poems recently in The Widow’s Handbook (Kent State University Press). Chapbooks include Don’t Turn Away: poems about breast cancer, End-Cycle: poems about caregiving, Apple Blossoms at Eye Level, Voices on the Land and Hormone Stew.