The Fruit at the End of the Sundae (Cherry)

Lyrics

The sunlight comes through the diner window at 3:30 in the afternoon.
It makes long, golden stripes on the checkered floor.
My long, silver spoon is waiting by the glass, resting on a napkin.

The glass dish is cold in my hands.
I can feel the condensation on my fingertips.
It has fluted edges, like a paper fan from the market.
Inside, a perfect mountain of vanilla snow, scooped from the chrome machine.
Dark rivers of warm fudge run down the sides, making paths.
A cloud of whipped cream sits on the very highest peak.
And right on top of that...

The single, bright red cherry.
So glossy it shines, it's perfect, it's waiting for me.
With its long, delicate green stem reaching up to the ceiling.
It's a little flag on a secret, sweet island.
Just for me. The cherry.

I decide to save the best for first.
I lift it carefully by its stem.
My fingers get sticky with the bright red syrup.
It smells sweet, like almonds and sugar from a jar.
The first bite is a soft pop in my mouth.
It's so different from the cold, melting ice cream.
It's a little piece of candy that warms my whole tongue.

The single, bright red cherry.
So glossy it shines, it's perfect, it's waiting for me.
With its long, delicate green stem reaching up to the ceiling.
It's a little flag on a secret, sweet island.
Just for me. The cherry.

Now, only the stem is left in my hand.
I put it in my mouth, a little green twig.
Pemba showed me this quiet trick, back at the monastery.
A secret game for the tongue and for patience.
Folding it over, looping it through, pulling gently...
And there. A small, perfect green knot appears.
It is my own kind of magic.

I place the tiny knot on my paper napkin.
It's a trophy from my afternoon sundae.
The glass is empty now, just streaks of fudge.
The sun is lower in the sky, almost orange.
All that's left is a sticky spoon and a tied cherry stem.