Almost The Kind Of Post I Miss

Some poetry. Inner thoughts. Something beyond the mere plug of a gig, a product. Of course, that needs to be done, I guess.

But there is that human touch I was so starting to miss.

The end message seems to be “buck up, kid. Nothing lasts forever.”

Yeah. Don’t remind me. And don’t remind you are not one for sentiment much. Yet, you are.

And of course you have reminded me that I am wallowing. Which I try not to do. For ultimately, the only person who can make me happy, who can “cure my ills” is me.

Oh, but you helped. You helped immeasurably. And I freely admit I grew addicted.

You were medicine. A daily fix. Much like your daily walk is a therapeutic drug… your posts were to me. And… if there was word from you directly? A response? A reply to me? Such an elixir! The day was made. The smile barely leaving my face. “She grinned like a Cheshire cat.”

I kidded myself that moving here I’d take almost daily Clyde walks. Since my return from Oz, I’ve been down to the Clyde a solitary time. Crossed it several other times though… and it always brings that same Cheshire smile – be it ever so briefly.

The other thing I have loved here – to do with water… the sound of the rain on my bedroom windows. There’s a strange kind of comfort…

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