I remember the back porch, screened in,
On foggy fall mornings and late summer nights.
I remember the living room, the Christmas parties
And decorated tree in the corner.

I remember the fold-out bed, and the cars
That passed by as I slept.
I remember the lighthouse paintings on every wall,
And the bedtime prayer you sang.

“Now I lay me down to sleep,”
I give the Lord my soul to keep;
Should I die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.”

I remember your garden in the backyard,
And your homegrown vegetables.
I remember your delicious french toast,
But I don’t quite remember how it tasted.

And though you’ve not been gone long,
I still remember your words,
But not how they sounded.
I hope to remember again someday.