For a bit of context, this poem was inspired by the deep, velvety blue color a cloudless sky becomes on a summer day. ^_^
| Ice Cream Sky |
Sometimes when the clouds go on vacation and the sun glows for squinting, the sky becomes a big, bulging dome of ice cream.
Not like the sunrise kind, which promises
spicy chunks of peachy charcoal and mangonada;
nor yet the sticky sunset of sweet turmeric and studded strawberry.
No, this sky is an energetic, milky, fruity, summer-day flavor:
blueberry earl grey, perhaps,
or taro-pine with a hint of lemon vanilla.
Now take your putty knife
and spread it flat against the North Pole,
then scoop it up and put it in a mountain-cone fringed with silver ice.
Whatever you do, just serve it fresh and cold,
garnished with stardust, clouds of marshmallow, and a sprig of sunbeam.
Ice cream is a great way to win favor among the angels,