Evening Cameo

The day is quiet
The back door half open
Greets the stillness.
The birds have ceased
their evening song.
The silence speaks
of old times.

I have been making fires
outside of late.
How ancient it feels
as for thousands of years
the women tend the fires
while the men hunt.
Even the dog seems to remember
the ancient fires
as she sits pleasurably,
quietly by the fire outside.

I feel this so strongly,
this instinct to keep the home fires
burning,
the central warmth of the home.
While the men hunt,
the children gather round,
the dog lies peacefully,

I gather wood.

I am a woman.