postcards from the edge

She wrote:

You paint with words.

The problem is relationships have the everyday stuff…who takes out the trash. Someone forgets to pick up the dry cleaning.

The dog needs walking. The kids are sick.

Nothing can be like what you paint all the time. It’s unrealistic.

You are absolutely correct; the world drawn by my words is ephemeral.

It can’t be sustained.

But it’s not meant to.

I write of moments. If life is a journey, these moments are the postcards.

They are our sharpest memories. The ones we remember best.

One thought on “postcards from the edge”

  1. Ah, where would we be without the bleeding obvious.
    But memory does not suffice here.
    Longing falls like moonlight.
    Always, dear man.

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