The exercise:
Write a four line poem about: the postcard.
Pretty productive day around these parts. Actually did some weeding by our garlic, in preparation for getting another layer of mulch around them. Which I started as well.
Also: the first potting up of the season, which included sage, rosemary, and some of our first seeded tomatoes.
Tomorrow shall be a day off from yard and garden work, as we're headed to Penticton for some errands and to meet up with a couple of Kat's friends. Looking forward to it.
Mine:
It arrived yesterday,
Covered with words but no names.
Unsure who it's meant for,
I treasure it all the same.
6 comments:
That sounds like a pleasant way to spend the day; potting, mulching and weeding. Of course, I'm not the one with an aching back afterwards... so maybe I'm biased :)
Heh, I love the last line of your poem!
The postcard
When she won the lottery,
I got postcards from Milan.
Telling me she'd faked her death,
And to join her when I can.
Postcards are no fun,
not unless they make the postman run!
to save them from being done,
into paper boats by his son!
The Postcard
Greetings from the Grand Canyon,
Please forward all mail to my new address,
You may already be a winner,
Wish you were here.
Greg - :P
I think faking one's death is one of the wiser options, post lottery win.
Gargi - haha... I could see Max becoming that postman's son, actually...
Aholiab - that postcard seems to cover quite a lot of ground! Very efficient :)
Half remembered
Memories
Forgotten
Forever more
David - this reminds me of a time I saw a postcard I'd sent a friend and I read it... and could not for the life of me remember what I had written about.
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