You have some ice cream on your nose I say
to my small boy in Spiderman costume.
He’s dropped the cone outside the monkey cage,
but his hands, sticky with chocolate perfume,
are reaching up with a finger held high,
pointing to the van, asking for another.
A bonobo child has come close to pry,
chin resting on the bars when his mother
reaches out a long arm and skillful hand
to scoop up what remains from the hot ground
before it melts into brown rivers and
rolls away. Her child makes a jovial sound.
We watch as the monkey child chomps it down.
My boy protests. I say you keep what you found.
***
Inspired by Shakespearean sonnets, written in iambic pentameter but with the odd line of 11 syllables.
About the Creator
Shereen Akhtar
Shereen is a writer and poet based in London. She has had work published in Ambit Magazine, Wasafiri, The Masters Review, Magma and Palette Poetry amongst others. She received a London Writers Award. Her debut collection is out next year.
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