Perhaps it’s not quite like a fridge, but it was a cool place to store the potatoes, turnips, carrots,  beets, and squash.

*Disclaimer – This is not my root cellar but it was on land where I was visiting. The poem is purely fictional (although probably possible).

“Go

Bring back

Potatoes,

Carrots, and squash.

The wicker basket

Is handy to carry

Everything.” — “But, Mom,” I whined,

“It’s so dark in there, and there’s bugs!”

“Nonsense! The bugs are more scared of you.”

Off I went … and of course, I proved her wrong.