One Hundred Years Ago

One hundred years or so ago,
We lived very low.
Hardly anyone had a radio,
Let alone a phonograph with stereo.
If you had a telephone at all,
It was one that hung upon the wall–
Not one carried in a purse,
Which would have been a dreadful curse;
Nor one that clipped onto a belt,
Where the slightest weight would have been felt.

No T.V. for our family
Because it was not yet to be;
And when you’d think
You needed a drink,
You’d not go over to the tap
To get yourself a cup of “sap”;
Instead, you’d take your water pail
And head for the well that was down the trail.
There you’d stand and pump and pump
Until your pail was all filled up;
Then back to the kitchen
As you were wishin;
You’d not have to fill that pail again
Before the day came to an end.

From dawn to dusk,
Life was a constant rush;
And in your mind it never did enter
That there’d someday be a need for an exercise center!

Oak Hill Poetry Chapbook, 2005

Leave a Reply