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A Small Heater

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A small heater
Electric
Under my writing desk
Idle
Sitting since last winter
 
Now turned on
Emits faintly
Odor, smell … fragrance?
Provoking a sudden loneliness
Why?
 
Some hidden memory
Disturbed, awakened
Childhood in Edmonton, perhaps
Dad’s old 40s car heater
Our own first apartment
 
© 2012 Thomas W. Cummins

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This entry was posted on December 22, 2012 at 12:44 pm and is filed under Personal, Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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