I hate it when I can’t read my own writing. There is a word missing from this one because I have yet to figure out what it is… [Update: I figured out the word. I’m going to leave that space blank, though. I kind of like the mystery it lends.]
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Life
Dear Monday…
Dear Monday,
I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon. Let’s go…
Love,
Kevin
(28 September 2015)
Soft edges (a poem)
Argh! Yesterday was frustrating when it came to writing. This one will need some work…
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Dear Sunday…
Dear Sunday,
Will we get to see the moon tonight? Maybe?
Love,
Kevin
(27 September 2015)
Dear Saturday…
Dear Saturday,
Looks like you’re having trouble making up your mind today. Sun or rain—either one is fine with me.
Love,
Kevin
(26 September 2015)
M. R. (a poem)
Yesterday was very chaotic in Seattle. Between the departure of the Chinese leader, and the crash on the Aurora bridge (which apparently happened at 11:11), I was glad I chose to stick close to home.
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Dear Friday…
Dear Friday,
Let’s see if we can relax a bit today.
Love,
Kevin
(25 September 2015)
Dear Thursday…
Dear Thursday,
Looks like another sunny day coming our way. What do you say?
Love,
Kevin
(24 September 2015)
A small epiphany on a Wednesday afternoon under the trees (a poem)
Sometimes an ordinary action gets me thinking all philosophical-like. What’s up with that?
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Dear Wednesday…
Dear Wednesday,
Bouncing back after a twice-interrupted night’s sleep. And the sun is out!
Love,
Kevin
(23 September 2015)
