Those winter evenings on the far Eastside-
remembered still for the aroma of potatoes
frying and coal smoke-
intermingled in the crisp twilight air.

At just about dusk, every evening,
all up and down the street-
coal burning furnaces would be stoked
and housewives would begin preparing
the evening meal-
all it would seem fixing fried potatoes-
as back then fried potatoes were a staple-
and coal heat was still the norm.

All up and down the block,
we kids would disappear from sight-
because we all knew-
when the chimneys began to smoke
and that aroma filled the air-
it was time to go inside-
we didn’t have to be called.

That wonderfully delightful aroma
of frying potatoes and coal smoke-
it really is quite unique, and even still,
either one recalls those winter evenings-
on the far Eastside.