The Anvil and The Forge

  17   There was a fire in the kitchen Pot roast cooked too long Caught on fire. Headed to the back door saw it swing Shoes clopped down the steps Out I went. The sun was low and soft in the sky Memories faded by Light gleamed high. Ancient lullabies sang over head Not to be disturbed Echoes danced. Take back nothing you can’t leave behind Proceed with caution Hold on fast. Back in the kitchen smoke curled up I took out the roast Set it down. Heated alone I turned on the fan Fumes irrigated Empty pan. Warm Autumn tones highlighted the space Greased linoleum Squeaky feet. Dried wells have never sprung so deep now Hung out on the line Cotton shirts. Through the door into the clearing grass Soft cool blades under Calloused toes. Bright white Queen Anne’s lace purple flower the middle is the fairy seat. All around colors lay the valley Low under the mist Freshen up. Gentle petals catch the drops of rain Drink up ti