Summer 1957

In an Indiana Thruway Service Center

New Hampshire bound? Perhaps you'll see
An old white house just down a lane
With swelling lilacs and a maple tree,
A stalwart chimney and a weather vane.
The porch is like a lap, and there's the apron of its lawn
A little shaggy, I suppose, like all the rest
You soon can tell when loving hands have gone -
A house begins to look somehow distressed
Why did we leave? It's this road, that's all;
Look at its smug seductive face.
How easy, listening to that humming, hot-breathed call
To think the only thing to do is to go some other place.
So I've a fine new job, a raise in pay -
Oh yes, you have two hundred miles to make, I know,
But if you see our old white house, New Hampshire way,
Just say hello - and tell it that we didn't want to go.