Bubble Gum Cigars

A six year old girl with quarters to spend,
from magic riches tooth fairies bequeath,
I hounded grandpa until he gave in,
entreating sympathy for missing teeth.

We headed to town, to his five and dime.
I skipped in time to keep up with his stride;
his kind, calloused, work hands held tight to mine,
to curtail dashing for riches inside.

A brick and mortar, named McKinnley’s Store,
enchanted fairy castle of treasure,
had silly putty, comics, bubbles, more…
where princesses perused at their leisure.

At dinner bell, we ran, in waning sun,
while puffing pink cigars of bubble gum.

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