Blue Days


Each morning: pretty on the outside; ugly on the inside.

Life — well, not really, it’s people who do it — can make a life like that.

The bad news is that it happens; the good news is that things that happen become past, the darker shadows fading up to gray, and, for the lucky, perhaps dissolving to blue arching toward white.

Whatever it was, it was yesterday, and yesterday was a long time ago.


This entry was posted in Journal, Seasons, Snapshots, Winter. Bookmark the permalink.

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