

Like an old padlock, rusty and dirty from disuse, my heart hangs about useless in a body that used to be as vibrant and new like the shiny steel fence. The fence it locked had put up with a lot of use and remained steady and strong for seventy years. It endured and provided protection its entire life. The lock was added when the fence was cut and a gate installed. Only one person had a key to the lock and after his time was up the lock was never opened again. So here it sits, worn, encasing new life and possibly a new key will come to open it and it will live again.
Reblogged this on Stine Writing and commented:
A glimmer of hope
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful. It is a sad story but you put in a hint of hope!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I had a couple of farm gates just as you describe it, memories.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Cool😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂
LikeLike