for the old ranch to be sold.
But the memories live on
in stories to be told and retold.
The summers she spent there
she said she was never without a chore to do.
Top of the list were dishes
according to her, she was never-ever through.
I can picture her
taking quiet walks around the place
her imagination run wild –
I assume that had to be the case
because that’s what I would do
and this apple sure didn’t fall far from the tree.
So everything I would have done
I’m guessing she did it all dutifully.
This was her special place
filled with memory and a whole lot of love.
Her heaven on earth,
that little spot she made sure we all knew of.
The place my now angel mother spent summers of youth.
In my mind’s eye I see her young and carefree.
This place means more than just another spot on this old Earth.
Its personal connection makes it near hallowed ground for me.
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