THE OLD CASTLEREAGH ROAD
The Fire Watcher
Wooden daybed, woodbox, woodstove, his trinity.
On into infinity.
He was simply said the thermostat.
And the feeder of the cat.
In an old farmhouse he built.
One patch in the quilt.
Now I know a noble job for one who had gotten old.
The final story of a gentle soul.
Winter Or summer he maintained the perfect number.
On cold winter nights he would rise from his slumber.
To make the night as warm as summer.
Sometimes it takes a child seventy years.
To get to the point he finally hears.
The importance of a functioning position.
The necessary power of making decisions.
Age gives the knowledge and the wisdom.
To fine tune and manage the system.
Should we really shut that away
When it gives the youth a chance to play?