When she took her new boyfriend up to bed for the first time, she walked by the painting her grandmother painted many years ago.
The painting was not nudged, it was not bumped but amazingly it jumped off the wall.
My postman, Lloyd.
I am sitting at my desk and the fresh air is flying through the house from back door to front
I can hear the sounds of the city
and the neighbour with allergies sneezing next door
And some birds chatting too
I am getting so much done
The weather is wait- all – year- for-it perfect
And I hear a noise on my doorstep.
I know it is my postman. A great man I have known for 8 years.
He had cancer last year but is better now. I missed him when he was gone
I like my doors open and that I trust.
I like his voice and him telling me he is there- even though he does not know I am because he cant see me.