The quiet solitude and long summer evenings on the porch where memories are made and pleasant silence lingers.
Here, where the lights were left on for children late returning and early morning bus runs were embraced by the rising sun
The small lawn was mowed a thousand times and the smell of fresh cut grass wafted through the kitchen and mixed with the pinesol scent of the kitchen, just cleaned
Stories read, first steps, Christmas mornings and pictures before the prom
And always, late evenings, quite conversations and laughter echoing across the river
This was, at once, a home
And now there is none
Time marches on
Memories hold their ground
I wish you happiness and new great photos. Alex.