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