On Meadow Lane,
There lived a man.
A man who used to work as a cook at the local elementary school.
A kind, generous man who made sure a kid never went home hungry.
On Meadow Lane,
There lived a woman.
A woman who lived her life as a flight attendant.
Flying from coast to coast, seeing the world one airport at a time.
On Meadow Lane,
There sat a white farmhouse.
A terrible little farmhouse that shook every time there was a storm.
A house that I spent my entire childhood and my early years of college.
On Meadow Lane,
There was a large Oak Tree.
A tree I used to climb in the summer time and made a treehouse in.
In the fall it would drop it’s acorns all over the lawn.
On Meadow Lane,
A man stands and reflects.
A house now sold.
Saying goodbye to Meadow Lane and the memories I hold dear.
Header Photo Credit to Pexels
https://www.pexels.com/photo/brown-wooden-house-near-the-road-436381/
Allen The Writer 