I Reminisce I Miss
I reminisce I miss
winter mornings waking up;
ice on windows
inside;
creating patterns;
ferns and trees
freshly etched works of art
on panes of glass.
The vapor of my breathing
showing in the cold air.
Reaching out,
touching curtains;
the room so cold, so damp,
that they were frozen;
like cardboard replicas of curtains.
A desperate dash
Down a dark, cold corridor
to the bathroom:
bare feet against the frigid lino floor
bracing; as my bottom lands
on ice-cold plastic seat.
Later, the morning ritual;
the lighting of the lonely fire that heats the home.
Rolled up newspaper kindling
striving to spark life
into resisting lumps
of damp black rock.
Briefly, the fire would roar,
only to subside;
and roar, subside, and roar again,
then; signs of life;
flames licking at the edges of the coal,
taking hold;
allowing gradual warmth
to permeate at least one room
of our damp, desolate house.
A gust of wind
down the chimney
fills the room with acrid smoke
competing
with mother's first cigarette of the day.
Do
I reminisce I miss?
I REMINISCE I MISS Poetry Contest, placed 2nd
Sponsored by: James Edward Lee Sr.
Date wrote: 10-04-2021
Copyright © Terry Miller | Year Posted 2021
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