Reminiscences

These old brown shoes climbed Bubble Mountain;

Sent pebbles flying along the sea;

Sped over pastures; through berry brambles—

That's how the scratches came to be.

The toes were stubbed on the old rock ledges

That rise so red above the bay.

The leather's gone in several places,

I remember the very spot and day.

A crooked spruce root made that dent.

Here's mud that came from Cranberry Lane,

I only have to look at my shoes

To see it all as plain as plain.

They carried me round all summer long,

We were out in rain or shiny weather;

So I keep them safe in my closet where

We can sit and remember old times together.