We come to the lake and talk to the water
with stones we skim across her glassy surface,
As we dangle bare feet from the edge of the dock
our eyes scan her familiar coves,
looking for evidence
of our younger
selves.
We Come to the Lake
Dear July…,
Dear July,
We meet again.
Me? I’m a year older than the last time we spoke.
You? You never seem to change. For the most part, you’re still bright and sunny. A hot tamale for sure.
Me? I have a few more wrinkles in a few more places. Ironic that we can attribute some of that to you. Haha. No, really.Continue Reading
Sunday Letter: 06.30.19
Dear Sunday Letter friends,
Tomorrow is July. Can you believe it?
Today my niece and nephew turn 19. I can’t believe that either.
I woke with a horrible headache this morning, probably because time is flying so quickly my brain is spinning inside my skull. Hopefully not, but that’s how it feels.
I’m drinking coffee and trying to ignore it because I have lots going on today.
