The one-word prompt was “detective.” Who is the killer? Who’s taken the life of one, Before time itself. Into the unknown, Asking questions of those left, To find the killer. The truth is out there, The detective must find it, Before it decays.
Christmas stockings are, Hanging ready by the hearth, Empty and waiting.
We all must have one, Or we would not know ourselves, Nameless forgotten.
Eight billion people, Stand with six feet between them, Each one all alone.
One hundred fifty, Days writing on this website, It never gets old.
Kids play in sunshine, Laughter friendship happiness, Outlives all of us.
I’ve stopped writing letters as a regular feature, but I had a lot of fun with them. Here is the letters category page. I’ve been sitting here trying to think which letter is my favorite. For seriousness and sort of philosophy, it’s definitely the one to the Pacific Ocean. I’ve had to pick three “other”Continue reading “Looking back at Letters”