the last day of summer

on the last day of summer
the girl
in the ice cream shop
loaded up your cone.
she no longer feared losing
her job
by flirting and over
serving her
favorite customers, which
was you and your
derelict friends
fresh off the beach
all burned, or tanned.
she wore a pink apron,
her hair back
in a pony tail with a name
tag that read
amy, though who's to know
for sure what her
real name was.
brown eyed and impossibly young.
you wonder if she remembers
that last day
of summer, leaving the beach
and going off
to her own life,
of school and marriage,
children, all of which
must be older
than she was back then,
on that day when with joy
she did her best to
empty the cartons
of cold ice cream
for you and your friends.