Thursday, November 21, 2013










Some people see old junk from the garage. 

People like me see the beauty, the sweat of the laborer's hand, 
a sporadic curse mumbled under the breath, 
the rough, strong hand that caused the 
perfectly thumb-sized rust spot on the handle,  
the ways of the past, remembering a time - long gone by - 
when things took a little more effort and stood the test of time quite a bit better. 

People like me see the soul of the salt of the earth.  


XO, Nyssa 





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