Poems and Thoughts    by Frank Maurer

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The Fire Pole. I grew up in Newton, Massachusetts, The city, with a good educational system. As many of you did, third graders toured Their neighborhoods. The one trip I remember was to the fire department. And there was the brass fire pole! The firemen demonstrated coming down Through that hole in the ceiling! Years later, now with two sons, living in their barn room, And remembering my past, I asked If they wished to have a pole. Giving a resounding 'yes', I simply cut a hole in the floor! During all their youth, Descending for school or chores, They each glided down a pole to meet the day. Frank Maurer 5 January 2024 0900 Hours.