curls of blue smoke
once made its way through these bricks–
image in my mind
© Freeda Baker Nichols
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curls of blue smoke
once made its way through these bricks–
image in my mind
© Freeda Baker Nichols
Freeda Baker Nichols 
Excellent, Freeda. Stirred some thoughts of my mother’s old home place. We got permission to take some flat stones that had been part of the foundation after it was torn down. I have them in my yard.
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How cool that you have those stones from your mother’s home place in your lovely city yard! Glad you are safely back from the beach. I imagine your brought along many story/poem ideas from those white sands!
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Poem fit perfectly with photo…and I could just picture it…
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The smoke from that flue was a welcome sight when I walked home from school. Mama would often be in the kitchen, cooking something for supper.
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We had a coal pot belly stove when I was little…and then a coal furnace later…and the smoke coming out of the chimney… was so welcoming!
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This is the best poem on here to me! I was so connected that i felt the emotions
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Hi. I like your comment. Means a lot. Thanks.
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Another memorable moment. It created such a lovely image in my mind. Striking photo.
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Thank you, Patricia. The picture is from last spring when a little snow was still sticking around.
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I don’t know what this was used for, but makes an interesting picture.
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It’s a brick structure, like a chimney, where a stove pipe exited it allowing smoke from a wood-burning stove to go through it. It’s called a flue, and these bricks are still there at my homeplace, but all signs of the wooden house and outbuildings are no longer there.
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