Thursday, October 29, 2009


29 October 2009

Inspired by The Weekend Wordsmith

photo courtesy of Pink Sherbet

Correspondence is a lost art--

not the type it in and click send sort.

The kind that exacts a price

in ink, paper, postage, and hands sore

from gripping a well made pen.

Most everything is faster now than it was

when I was a kid. Back then, everything was

faster than it had been before.

I wonder at what point we’ll lose

our equilibrium; revert of necessity

to a less dizzying pace. Maybe then we’ll sit

down of our own accord on a summer evening

with a glass of actual fresh-squeezed lemonade;

write a letter to someone who remembers

less hectic times than we do.

No comments:

George MacDonald

"Home is ever so far away in the palm of your hand, and how to get there it is of no use to tell you. But you will get there; you must get there; you have to get there. Everybody who is not at home, has to go home."

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