Today’s NaPoWriMo challenge: “…draft a prose poem in the form/style of a postcard.”
Wish you were here, but you deserve a good break; I work you hard, these middle-aged days. Hope I didn’t scare you away with my frequent trips to the laundry room for no apparent reason. Still no sign of my keys or glasses. Hope you come back soon. Before I forget, could you please remember to remind me how Aunt Avis made that salt-rising bread, and if that Chevy on the farm was navy, or more of a royal blue? Cannot seem to color in those simple black and white summer times at Grandma’s anymore; when I try, my thoughts flutter-scatter, like all those moths on her back porch, come nightfall, when she’d shut off the spotlight so we could catch lightning bugs. Maybe you, like those moths – and, probably, the poor lightning bugs — prefer to keep to yourself at night? The occasional spotlight is irresistible, isn’t it? But we all need our sleep. I get it. Just come back. I’ll leave the light off.
by Elizabeth Boquet, April 2018