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Local Focus – Global Reach

Posted by MFish

Arm in arm, hands intertwined,
strolling through the woods.
Talking, touching, seeing you,
with windswept hair.
Dragging feet, through piles
of gold, fallen from the trees.
The still, fresh crisp of Autumns
night nips our noses and cheeks.
Frost pockets, stay in the darkest shade
where the Sun never reaches.
Threads of ice from water splashed,
cling to bank and branches,
while rocks and stones, become encrusted,
with coats of crystal glass.
Lay your head down on my arm
and make my chest your pillow.
Close your eyes and listen love,
to words, soft, warm and mellow.

No central heat,
no central air.
Just an oil heater
in the living room,
that was only on
if there was company.
The living space
was in the kitchen
where the huge wood
stove was sitting.
The first chore,
in the morning,
was to remove the lid
with a tool,
put in paper
and wood, for fuel.
Touch the paper
with a match,
replace the lid,
open the draft
and soon the heat
was coming fast.
The stove was iron
with a big oven,
where pies and cakes
would be forth coming.
Some pots on the rear
flat top of the stove,
kept items quite warm,
almost all the day.
Potatoes, vegetables
some meat, would
go into those pots
to cook away,
until dinner time.
That's something I
recall, from long ago,
when life was simple
as we listened
to the radio.

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