Magnum

Doing tongue work on the polity of the ice cream,
racing to the bottom of the ice cream stick,
against raging time and a remorseless sun above,
droplets fall to the ground, like golden beads from a TIG welder,
- the chocolate coating lost the plot, it never stood a chance -
a hungry dog runs up and down to catch the sad remains,
but way too late, for all intents, the thrill is long gone.