The Peal of the Bells

It is the season of ice cream deliveries,
Chasing the tunes down the street
Where we all return to childhood,
In short pants and t-shirts
And red, white and blue keds,
No matter the vintage
Whether it reminds us of last week
Or last year
Or forty years ago
When you were a young girl
Running down to the snowball man
And I was the little boy down the lane
And the ring of those bells
Meant Summer and sweet frozen cream
A special sticky treat
Caught between the shimmer of the heat and the heft of the humidity.

The tingle and the tune echo down the avenue.