Previous
Previous
Serendipity
Next
Next
The flower boxes were overrun with weeds, cigarette butts and leaves. I cleared the debris, poured water on the remaining twigs and turned in to watch the convention.
A new candidate with ideas? The energy was incendiary.
By morning, we flowers were all in bloom from the heat of hope.
Cate picked up a crayon when she was two-years old and started writing. She hasn’t stopped yet.