The red umbrella was the sign.
An icy treat would soon be mine.
A memory when I was young.
When snow cone magic cooled my tongue.
A block of ice perched on a cart.
A masterpiece, a work of art.
The line was long but soon I’d be.
Filled with joy and summer glee.
I watched the vendor scrape the ice.
Fixed upon the strange device.
Particles that sprayed about.
Cooled my face from summer’s drought.
Then as he shaped the precious chips.
I dreamed of how they’d cool my lips.
Now the time to choose at last.
My flavor choice the man would ask.
Coconut would always win.
And so he’d start to pour and spin.
A bottle rich with sweet delight.
Oh how I loved that icy sight.
Done and paid now it was time.
True happiness for just a dime.
Then racing fast against the sun.
As coco ice would melt and run.