I can still see my mother squatting down by the fireplace ,
Putting some sticks over scrunched up newspaper .
She struck a match and lit the paper as smoke arose.
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Handsome, atmospheric poem. The poignant slice-of-life scene here is vivid and well-constructed and I can picture it in my mind. It is the magic of poetry that can take us back in time and place and make us feel that we are right there. Good work.
nice poem, this was a reminder of my own chidhood. life was not so comfotable but that's all we knew.