Browned

In November
Here by Canada
The cold weather
Reminds me of the
Things that warmed
Me in my youth when
I was eight the odd shape
Of a heavy metal device with
Handles that folded from flat on
The kitchen counter in an arc
Across so the two handles
Touched and the warmth
Of the electric current
Heated my cheese
Sandwich until it
Browned to a
Delicious
Toasted
Treat
Not
Dry like
Toast but
Toasty on
The outside
But melted cheese
On the inside maybe even
With a few sliced pieces of sweet
Pickle inside to heighten taste
A little further hot to the
Touch mouth watering
Still after two thirds
Of a century much
Like the delight
Of knowing
Despite
The
Cruel
Words
At play
Browned
My sisters
All loved me
Like the golden
Cheese within even
Though they did think
I was just getting
Them into yet
Another
Pickle.