I’ve been to the shop to watch it being made unchanging and unchanged. Sorcerers in snow white helmets, reading my childhood and all the places I have been with wooden spoons carved from Longview timber seasoned in regression’s oil, added limpids to the mix. See through taffy in the candy kettle. I once gazed into the window at everything I was too young to buy then spied a nickel in the rubble of the gutter. Found a way to dig it out and went in. The gutter went in with me. Sunlight has a way of hiding things That glitter in the darkness. Sugar’s haze obscures so many arrow signs but you can taste it with each breath, and some is not enough. How much to eat Rises with the tides of time And falls with its forgetting. Without another penny there must be some other way to backtrack to the longing sated and find the peanut in the middle. *ljm
Thinking of the little home made candy shop in my childhood home town. And other things.