Classic Poem

The gas flame seemed to be fanning itself —
The kitchen was so hot.
Mrs. Smith left the steaming stove
To cool her moist cheek at the fire-escape window;
Surprised to see that the sky was still there
She wondered if there were Smiths on each soft star.
Mr. Smith shouted from the dining room:
" The soup was good, Ann; I'm ready for the meat! "