Life is a collection of reminders.
“Socks before shoes -wait! Fold seams inside the socks first…”
Every moment is a list of instructions we pull from the linted clump of a cranial pocket. Frowning, we take it out, straighten it, and make sense of the blurry pen marks and dog-eared corners.
“Put the car in Park before turning the engine off…”
How many notes; how many memories end up in those pockets? Once they’re full, is that when we discover -to our confused dismay- a hole in the lining?
©2021 Chel Owens
You lost me… I think… I seem to recall… or do I..? Yep. holey lost.
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😀 You would be.
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Elegantly stated.
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Thank you.
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Touching, Chelsea. A beautiful piece of wondering.
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Thank you. ❤
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Or when you do read those notes, you can’t read the handwriting
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Precisely. Who wrote them, anyway?
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Sometimes the brain is just too full to add anything else!
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Overstuffed!
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Exactly!
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