barcelona 1959

the wooden wagon
pulled by a horse,
an old
horse, sagging at the seat,
sloped
from his work,
stops
to deliver ice.
with sharp tongs
the man in a striped shirt
pulls
a block of melting
ice from the back
of the wagon,
undrapping a canvas
cloth.
he carts it in
to where your mother
chips it
on the kitchen floor.
a hammer and chisel
in hands.
she stores
what she can into the ice
box,
keeping cold
for another week
milk
and meat.