Fresh from the store, I was medium blue
with a touch of gray and a ton of confidence
that the mail would be safe from the weather.
I shrugged off decades of sun, rain, and wind.
I never flinched when the snow thrower hurled
slush laden with road salt and grit.
My pitted outside is the palest of blues, but
my door still swings wide and shuts tight.
My inside is still me, still medium blue
with a touch of gray and a ton of confidence
that the mail is still safe from the weather.
Blues ~ Pic and a Word Challenge #368
– Gray button (upper left corner) reveals widgets, –
– above post (on phone) or beside it (on desktop). –
– above post (on phone) or beside it (on desktop). –
Mellow Curmudgeon 
This is delightful, and it’s the best hope each of us has, isn’t it?
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Thanks from both me and the mailbox. ;) Yes, keeping the faith inside while the outside deteriorates is the best hope we have.
Tweaked with more repetition, I do think the poem could become lyrics for a decent blues. But I have no hope of learning to compose music.
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MMMMMmmmmmmm….. Whimsy. My favourite thing. 🙂 ❤
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Sweet and safe.
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