Nothing’s good enough. So, I write nothing. I write about a grandmother sitting alone on a boulder sipping air while watching you. You don’t care much about this, but you still think of her. As a girl she wore sun dresses which you admired. Kicking dirt, ignoring her. In your room you had thoughts that blanketed freedom.
-M. Taggart
mtaggartwriter 
Your first two lines are why I haven’t blogged lately.
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Think of nothing as good enough. That’s where that line works and what my thoughts were while writing it. Changes everything.
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👌👌
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Cheers
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Ouch. It hurt.
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I gotta ask. How?
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A grandmother sitting alone on a boulder.
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