Ramblings Of An Earnest Mind

Great rumble of trains passing
        somber home in the darkness
grandpa snoring--
   little quilt with knobs of fabric

The trains ran by
  their whistles blowing
while i sat and held the little drops of fabric in my hands

The fire was stoked in the little woodstove
   and grandpa got up at 4am to feed it wood
to warm up the children and grandchildren in the house

Balogna sandwiches and ice tea
  My father's little brass piano player in a corner
of the sparse living room
  Grandma's quilts and yarn rugs all around.


I treasured those times--those nights.
Nothing could take their place in my little world.