he would lay in bed all day sometimes…just thinkin’ of her…the way things used to be a long time ago…

thoughts of crisp Autumn mornin’s and walkin’ the leaf filled Montpelier sidewalks…kids baggin’ the scatterin’ of colors…reds…rust…oranges…and golden yellows…

would walk through town hand in hand as old pickup trucks drove by on the cobblestone streets leadin’ the way over wooden bridges…past taverns and diners…bookstores…the county courthouse…churches with copper steeples…a library built in the 1800’s…

and he thought of her red hair and green eyes…sweaters she’d wear…kisses on corners…walkin’ through farmer’s markets on Saturdays…the smell of Apple turnovers…

he’d lay in bed and think of those times…of her…of Montpelier…