the lake where the poets came alive

 40° 43' 16.0896'' N

82° 33' 4.2624'' W

this is the lake. we don’t go to the lake often anymore, but it still stands as a sign of what once was. the bugs won’t let you leave without a few bites, but the grass and lake water smell like home. not cozy inside home, but outside home.

the lake is the home of long nights, bike rides, and lost hikes. 

the lake is the home of best friends pulling you out of mud, splashing water, and dashing across the stones. 

the lake is the home of memories and spontaneous youth, the memories of what we used to be.