The little girl
at the lemonade stand
handed me a gumball.
I pocketed it
to keep for a later day.
A rainy day
which just arrived
where I searched my jacket
for something sweet
to get me through.

But
was it the jawbreaker
I chew
or the memory of innocence
that has done me this service?

The gumball.
That girl
was a real bitch.