The exercise:
Write a four line poem about: feeling left out.
I realized this morning that this was the first time the farm has gone to the market without me being there in about seven years. No wonder I was having trouble letting go of things.
From the sound of it things went fairly well, which I was pleased to hear. And, on my end of things, I quite enjoyed waking up after the market opened.
Max slept until almost 9, which nearly made up for him going to bed at 11:30 last night. He was definitely confused as to why both Mommy and Dada were awake and out of bed before him though.
Mine:
All the other kids
Are having so much fun.
I would join in but...
They know what I have done.
2 comments:
Seven years! That's practically long enough to claim ownership of the market under squatters rights :) I can see how it would be hard to let go of the idea that you should be going there too. And I think it's fantastic that you both beat Max up for once: I'm sure he won't take revenge by getting up at 3am tomorrow ;-)
Wow, your last line packs a punch today! Such a story in so few words... well done!
Feeling left out
The birthday card was precise, meticulous, so... very you.
It described in exquisite detail everything you hoped I'd do
To make this day memorable and wonderful and great. About
it all there's one thing missing. All the feeling is left out.
Greg - hah, I think other squatters... I mean farmers... would be in line ahead of me :)
Thank you for your kind words :)
Yours is beautiful. That final line packs quite the punch as well. I don't know if you were inspired to hit hard with your ending by mine or not, but I really like the end result regardless!
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