Dad brought pink peppermint home in a sack
and gave it to my sis, Yvonne, and me,
each time he made his monthly trip to town.
My sis and I would race each other down
to meet our dad each time that he came back.
Yvonne school-hopped on past the white lilac.
She was the first to reach Dad– she was three
and I was only two years more than she.
Two sacks he held within his weathered hand.
We smiled and thought that he was simply grand.
He parked his Model T beside the fence,
then gave our mom a hug without pretense
and she was happy with cake flour he bought
but candy was the best thing that he brought.
© 2014, Freeda Baker Nichols