I remember that big old house.
Sounds funny you might say.
I was three or four.
How can I remember back to those days?
It pops to mind, little flashbacks.
Mommy running down to put coal in.
The living room, the kitchen.
Running and playing, my head in a spin.
Oh, the nights Mommy had to say,
if I have to come in there!
We laughed and giggled anyway,
as if to send a special little dare.
My fondest memories, that big old porch.
Me and Bobby played for hours.
Tea parties, baby dolls, cowboys, indians.
The memory drenches my mind in showers.
Out in back I remember it.
Hudson Lake, didn't seem like much left.
Kind of swampy and dried up.
Memories of a place I adored.
Just bits and pieces here and there.
That place, New Carlisle.
Back in Indiana.
Vague, faint memories...
on which I can still smile!



Written by: S. Matheson
~ Hudson Lake ~