Diary – Monday

This is where I am now, upon this page.  There is only me here.

In my mind, my voice is high and very clear.  Almost like a reed fluting.  I mean a flute reeding.

No.

It is the wind through the reeds at the side of my garden pond.

No.

I have some grass in my hand – a blade, that’s it – and I have learnt how to blow through a folded copy of it – a loop.

It sounds high.

No.  It is – no, I won’t say that.  I don’t want to spoil these high-fallutin’ thoughts.

2 thoughts on “Diary – Monday

  1. Yes – I sometimes think this is my real writing – the diary stuff. Glad you like it. It could be difficult to let some of this out, but I was thinking of it. There are so many boundaries you need to keep in mind with diary-writing, I find.

    Liked by 1 person

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