I remember Minnesota, with the lake out my window
The cool mornings, rising to the smell of bacon.
With the wolve howling at the moon
Like a baby crying for its mother.
I remember Minnesota, with the smell of cigar smoke outside the cabin
While I read The Golden Compass for school.
With memories of fish caught earlier floating in my head
Like distracting noises about the old cabin.
I remember Minnesota, with the plastic army men battles outside
And the smell of tacos cooked in the kitchen.
No television, readio, cell phone, or pagers at all,
Just books to read, cards to play with, bikes to take, and fish to catch.
I remember Minnesota, the smell of grilled chicken outside
And the memory of the 18 inch Walleye my dad had caught earlier,
Glistening in the sun like a gold plated bowl with razor sharp edges.
With the big tall pine trees all around the cabin covering it
Like the warm soft blankets covering me up at night.
I remember Minnesota