smell of bacon frying in the pan
And coffee brewing on the old
Each morn aroused my nose. My
feet would land
On naked floors so chilly from
And shivering in my tattered
I'd hurry to the kitchen where
My mama baking biscuits big and
And crackling fire to warm my
Outside I'd hear the wind so
And wish that Mom and Dad would
change their rule
That nothing short of sleet and
Would let me stay at home when
there was school.
I knew it was no use to raise a
So I ate up, then dressed and
caught the bus.
Copyright © 1995 Ruth Gillis
published in RB's Poets'
Viewpoint May 1995
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