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Poem
Evening has quietly tiptoed away on slippered feet
Houses up and down the street are silhouettes

A garden looks white- washed in moonlight, 
And the faint sound of a train whistles through the air 
            leaving a trail of melancholy longing, resounding in the dark.
A table has been cleared of all traces of dinner, and now is set for breakfast
Doors are locked, and a
      screen has been put across the glowing embers.
Two golden Labradors 
     in deep slumber, are curled in their baskets by the back door
The house settles 
       as the momentum of a busy day
                                         winds itself down.

A mantel clock is ticking, and the refrigerator hums with a comfortable familiarity

How soothing is the sound of the refrigerator.
Odd, but it's something I never seem to notice during the day
This old white elephant, meant for keeping something cold,
           but yet, can conjure up such warm memories?

           I was a bit of a thing, sleeping on a tiny cot in my grandmother's parlor...
           snuggled tightly against the southern wall, adjacent to the kitchen.......
           And the vibration of the squatty little Kelvinator, 
           could be felt as if it were put there purposely to lull me to sleep...
           There would be magic in the moonlight, and a rhythm  in the hum,
           with a lullaby that shook the floor.....cold nights  when I was young

Tonight's moon slowly makes a shadowy passage
                        through the windows of each room, 
                                            as it puts the house to bed...
                                                         While my yesterdays are gone for keeps...
                                                          and sleep may not be an easy feat
                                                          I wish, once more to feel the floor
                                                          vibrate like it did before
                                                          And watch the moon as it comes
                                                          to fill my dreams with golden doors
                                                          And hear once more...the soothing hum

                                          Yet, slowly as old songs are done,
                                          tonight becomes tomorrow...



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