86. I Love ... the crackling and popping.

Not the crackling and popping
of Rice Krispies.
That's what people from my era
think of when they hear
snap, crackle, pop.

I love the
crackling and popping
of the wood stove in the kitchen.

Especially in the evening
when I am alone in the
quiet;
wrapped in a blanket,
reading by a soft light.

She is company,
that old stove;
conversation
with her voice
being fueled by the intake
of the wind.

Welcome company.