Welcome to Day 7 in the #write31days series, Postcards From Me.
I am celebrating your presence here. It is a gift. Words without eyes and ears to ingest them can get a little lonely. You know. Crickets. Quiet. Pin drop quiet.
To read the series in its entirety click here
Please Pass The Words
There, beside the heap of hot comfort, mashed potatoes
Steam rising up, like Old Faithful
Butter running down, like sweat off the brow
There, beside the pickled beets
Garnet red bleeding wild and running free around
The cracked blue willow plate
Please pass the words
Excavate them from the deepest parts of you
Chisel, unearth them with a horsehair brush
Brush them gently as an archeologist would
Handle them with loving care
A mix of lover and scientist
Cup them in your hands
Clothed in moleskin gloves
Breathe the word fragile, over them again
There, resting beside a decade ago and
Many decades before that, hiding still
Please pass the words, they’re getting cold
Join me won’t you as I journey through the challenge of writing 31 days in October. I am joining over 1000 bloggers at The Nester’s writing home. Come and read along.