I am one of the fortunate people of the world with lifelong friends. One of them, Mary Stripling, is a poet who writes from the heart ... and always with a twinkle in her eye and a delightful smile on her face. She sent me the following poem tonight that she'd written after I told her that my new address is on Memory Lane.
We sat silently in the Pathfinder as Ted guided it along North Druid Hills Road.
The thing ought to know the route
and drive itself by now.
Mary broke the silence.
“I wonder if that was the name or if she bought the road and named it.”
We chuckled and sat quietly again.
The Pathfinder turned, no faster than a trot
into the Publix parking lot.
This time Ted’s gentlest voice broke the silence.