heroism on a hot day

four young children sit on a curb
darkened by the sun
they wait in their cut-offs and sneakers
sweat soaked t-shirts cling to their small frames
waiting
all four boys stare longingly down the street
to the left
then they stare hesitantly down the street
to the right
the glare of the sun obscuring their view
bouncing a basketball lazily between them
they wait
too hot and tired
the abandoned court behind them gleamingly menacingly
this august day is barely half gone
and yet they wait
licking parched lips
they check the street again
first left
then right
their shadows are hardly visible
as the sun seems to sit overhead for far too long
suddenly
a mirage appears
shimmering down the road to the left
the hot pavement shrouds the apparition in undulating light
is this real
or imagined?
could this be what the young ones have been waiting for?
it must be
for mirages don't play music
that glorious, long-awaited sound wafts liltingly over the warm air
as the boys run joyously
spare change jingling in pockets
ignoring the heat and sun that had previously encumbered them
suddenly they are joined by a crowd of children
emerging from warm houses and front yards
pool sides and tree houses
all jostling to be the first in line
first to wrap their mouths around sweet cold goodness
this valid mirage has offered these children relief
short-lived, but gratifying relief
returning to their curbs or houses or yards
young lives have been satisfied
at least until tomorrow
when the ice cream man will once again play his theme song
and become a hero