The first home I remember
is an 1800's country cottage
with a barn and pond.
My bedroom had once been a pony's stall.
In the common room a Franklin stove.
Cast-iron black.
Apple trees, cheery trees,
strawberries, mint,
a broken brick well,
encased in forest
and daisy fields.
Horses and chickens,
turtles and dogs,
bunnies and birds,
I was friends with them all.
At night a swarm of bats
hunted water-skeeters
in pitch black.
So until seven years old
at home the facts are neat and clean;
It snows in the winter
The bunnies appear in the spring
The birds fly back in the summer
and autumn smells like kerosene.
Author notes
Axe Tither Mizzens
What did you think
Comments
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This an excellent snapshot of remembered youth.
Good write.
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