The Cellar
By: Christopher Bice
The farm house had a cellar door
The kind that opens from the floor
Some old rickety wooden stairs
Into the blackness leading nowhere
Praying there's no eight legged things
While searching hands look for a string
Turning on an old forty watt light
Shadows jump out giving quite the fright
The cellar floor just hard packed dirt
I always had to be alert
But this time of day it's safe to say
The mice and snakes are hidden away
In the dark corner a freezer sits
Hold the lid open with a broom stick
Quickly reach in for the ice cream
Close the lid, turn around, and scream
Grandpa always thought it a big joke
Sneak down and wait to give you a poke
I hated that cellar with the dirt packed floor
I swore that was it, I'd come back no more
Grandma and Grandpa died that year
Neighbors all came and shed a tear
House boarded up, the bank sold the land
Some old farmer wanted to expand
I still stop there and pull off the road
Twenty years I've carried a heavy load
You see I didn't go back after that day
And Grandma and Grandpa just wasted away.
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