Orange Leaf

Friday nights, school holidays gone.
Still, my friends and I hang at Ponds.
A divine treat quenches a summer flame,
and I’ll never be the same.

Little cash but a large spoon,
to fulfil this fat buffoon
who adores her decadent paramour.
Other shops exist, but none I love more.

My seventeenth January,
a bite of what’s sweet and airy,
and my last forever,
as it leaves with the hot weather.

And I’m left yearning,
missing its versitility,
how it’s fresh and milky.
And time will go by,
imitators continue to arrive.

They can offer
what I enjoyed before.
But I’m still left somber,
even if I like their store,
because of the abyss
it eclipses.

…

Sunday after closing time,
the wrinkle by your eyes.
Funny and without shame,
and I’ll never be the same.

Day by day,
work and play
all at our place.
My dearest mate,
you’re where I want to stay.

Two years pass,
shattered like glass.
A barking dog.
You’re with her and gone - it’s all wrong.

Now I’m searching for you
in every conversation,
in every smile, every flirtation.
Being sad on vacation.
My soulmate’s renunciation.

Had it never closed down,
had you stuck around,
a frozen yoghurt shop,
could’ve been our dessert stop.
Nothing and no one can replace,
what’s been lost, what’s so great.