XXXVI: Slice of Memory

I went down to the store for you today.

I knew you’d want a funny kind of fruit.

I found some kind of melon on a tray.

I took it, though I’ve always found them moot.

And on the roadward back I tossed it high.

That stupid game of catch I always play.

You always asked me witheringly why.

I always laughed. That always was our way.

This Summer warmth was colder wit…