Little House, Big Woods, Combustion engine

If I had grown up in the little house in the big woods

With Laura

Mary

Little baby Carrie

Ma

Pa

And their good old bulldog Jack

I would never have known the smell of burning gasoline

Heavy in the cold morning air

I would have known cold morning air

Even if I didn’t recognize it

As I waved goodbye to my grandparents

From the covered wagon

Probably forever

And headed

Pots banging

Dog barking

For the prairie

But I wouldn’t have known what I was talking about

Had I tried to explain to myself what it smells like

When you walk up and down your in-laws’ ice covered driveway

Between the house and your car

Which is running

Warming up

Loading dirty clothes,

Leftover vegetable pasta, and

Jalapeno yogurt dip

Into the trunk

So that you can return to your home

Which you have to hope

Has electricity flowing into it

Once again and

Probably

Luckily for me

If I had grown up

Churning butter

Gathering honey and

Dodging bear

In and around the little house in the big woods

I wouldn’t have cared