Kentucky Birthday February 12, 1816
By Frances Frost
Leaning his chin in his small hard hands,
Abraham thought and thought
About adventure in distant lands:
His breath came fast and caught
In his throat as he dreamed on the cabin floor.
The firelight danced on his book
In a gust from the suddenly opened door,
He twisted around to look.
His father stamped the snow from his feet;
The steaming stew on the crane
Smelled tender-rabbit, spiced and sweet;
The sharp snow knocked at the pane.
Abraham smiled at the alphabet,
Tall on the firelit page:
He guessed he’d remember the dark floor wet
With snow, till he came of age.
He thought of wide American lands,
But this warm room was heaven.
He cupped his chin in his small hard hands-
Abraham Lincoln, seven