by Justin Karcher
At the open mic a young girl
plays an Elliott Smith song
and some of us cry on the inside.
It’s raining outside. There’s nothing
we can do about it. Sometimes the people
we love the most are like ice cream cones
nailed to the sky. Their sweetness falling slowly
all around us. They don’t have much time left.
::
Justin Karcher (Twitter: @justin_karcher, Bluesky: justinkarcher.bsky.social) is a Best of the Net and Pushcart-nominated poet and playwright born and raised in Buffalo, NY. He is the author of several books, including Tailgating at the Gates of Hell (Ghost City Press, 2015). Recent playwriting credits include “The Birth of Santa” (American Repertory Theater of WNY) and “The Trick Is to Spill Your Guts Faster Than the Snow Falls” (Alleyway Theatre). Check out his website, https://www.justinkarcherauthor.com.
Image: Grace Mak
ID: mocha ice cream cone.
Psaltery & Lyre 
Exquisite!