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The Kelvinator

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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...



_______________________________________________
For Contest: "Tribute To A Major Appliance"
Sponsored by Mary Oliver Rotman
9/14/15

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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Date: 10/13/2015 1:03:00 AM
Congrats on ur awesome winning write Carrie!
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Date: 10/10/2015 12:05:00 PM
Carrie, another wonderful win. **SKAT**
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Date: 10/9/2015 5:41:00 PM
Carrie, congratulations on your win!!! Enjoyed reading
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Date: 10/9/2015 10:41:00 AM
What wonderful memories those little vibrations can make us hold onto in life. Wonderfully written and big Kudos on your win.
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Date: 10/9/2015 9:01:00 AM
This is a beautiful poem. I am truly touched - for me it was the dish washer that my Mama consistently turned on each night at bed time. You took me there and I willingly went. A very nostalgic read for me. Congratulations ... CayCay
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Date: 10/9/2015 8:24:00 AM
Carrie, such wonderful descriptive scenes, memories and tribute to the comforting sound that you remember so well, coming from your grandma's fridge. Congratulations on your podium win! Hugs, Sandra
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Date: 10/9/2015 4:53:00 AM
many congrats Carrie - great descriptive write filled such wonderful memories:-) hugs Jan xx 7
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Date: 9/24/2015 1:25:00 PM
Reads like a winner to me..I enjoyed reading your memory of the hums, scents, and sounds of childhood..Thanks for stopping by..Sara
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Date: 9/15/2015 7:54:00 AM
CARRIE.....W O W......this is a magical trip painted in reflective colors and sounds. We had a Kelvinator fridge when I was a kid. And yes they did "hum" and keep the Kool-aid cool.
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Date: 9/14/2015 8:29:00 PM
oh carrie, i really love this poem! you've created such a wonderfully nostalgic and comforting mood and i was instantly transported to your grandmother's parlor. bravo to you for this one!
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things