Daily Note
Every day, a photograph, a poem. Today, our new couch was delivered, which means we needed to push the armoire away from its spot there as our entry closet in our old cottage style house. And there beside the armoire sat a green bag— once Scott’s reporter’s bag with his note pads, small digital camera [before iPhones], pens, business cards, etc. Then, our granddaughter stayed with us and became our ten-year-old reporter [for the family, not the paper] and that became her bag.
Next, we traveled into the mountains collecting odd rocks of the geology of the area, which meant that the grandkids took over the bag for collecting, smashing, and enjoying the rock hound life.
All those memories came flooding back—- so many sights and sounds in a flash.
And so a poem, to remember…
Poetry
Memories Behind the Door
On the floor behind the front door
Sheri Edwards
Sits a bag of memories:
A reporter’s bag
A grandchild’s reporter bag
A rock hound bag
Grandkid rock hound bag
Filled with hammers and tools
Rocks and towels and
Rock notes—
Ready to collect and crush
Document and save
Their precious rock finds:
All that in a bag on the floor.
06.02.23 154.365.23
Poetry/Photography [See-Frame-Focus]
An old bag sitting behind the front door, filled with rock hound tools brings back memories of geocaching, collecting, smashing, laughter, ooohhs and ahhhs.
#clmooc #smallpoems #memories
I wonder, if I draw a line... 