LETTERS AT THE EDGE OF THE DAY

My picture from yesterday was indeed the end of the garlic. I had finished using 6 cloves and that was the last of it. I thought it made an interesting photo, which just proves I think almost everything is worth a photo, if I stare at it long enough, even that which is left on my cutting board. I looked at it and went “hmmm…” and there you go. It was an easy guess, yes? On to today’s post, a picture and a poem.

Along the quiet country lane they stand,

Each box a keeper of unseen hands.

Paint chipped, flags lifted, hopes enclosed,

Stories waiting where sunlight glows.

The breeze hums softly through the grass,

Whispering names as shadows pass;

Messages carried from heart to heart,

Tiny bridges where worlds depart.

And in this row of colors worn,

Dreams are delivered, love reborn—

A watercolor hush, serene and true,

Each mailbox holding a piece of you.

~Letters At The Edge Of The Day~

This is a photo taken many years ago on a road trip. I was used to seeing these multiple mailboxes on rural roads and still consider them things of historical importance, and beauty. I used an art app as the photo was very dark and I wanted to give it a better look. It lightened the image and turned it into a painting. Then I added a poem to describe the scene. 

Thanks for visiting everyone. Thanks also for joining in yesterday and leaving your comments. Always very much appreciated! 

Have a great weekend!