The Last House On the South Side

Heading east on 16th Street where the road becomes a “T” it’s the last house on the south side that means so much to me. Pine shrubbery up to the windows giant cottonwoods stand guard an arch above the driveway an eighteen acre yard Wrapped in warm wood siding inviting young and old “Come! Sit upon this porch of mine! Such stories yet to be told!” The shingled roof, though worn with time still boasts unyielding strength a red brick chimney standing tall, giant windows down the length I helped to plant those giant trees when we were both still small and pulled the weeds from every inch of eighteen acres....ALL! I’ve climbed out of those windows some punishment to escape I’ve run across that rooftop donned in a long red cape I’ve crawled under that porch upon my hands and knees to rescue baby kittens or little brothers for to tease I’ve chased the dogs around the house upon my faithful steed who was just a Shetland pony but always up to the deed! Within those walls, and out it seems, many lessons there were learned and in the process of it all the memories, on my heart, were burned Though things change, as all things do, there, most things stay the same like love and laughter flowing ‘round and calling out my name Now, when I’m growing weary and need a place to hide I jump into my trusty car and go out for a ride ‘cause Heading east on 16th Street where the road becomes a “T” that last house on the south side means so much to me! Trudy Diane Rider 10-2003