Cherry blossoms that covered the road I walked with my dear friend as she told me about her mothers illness and the problems in her marriage. I scooped them up and put them in a book because they were so glorious as they blew and frolicked in the wind, like a pink fall of snow brushing against the cobbled Hungarian street.
Her mother, an equally kind and generous woman, passed away and her marriage ended.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Your comment is awaiting moderation, it was just easier to go this route than to have those insane word verification boxes that are shockingly hard to read!
It should show up in the comments shortly, thank you for commenting!
BN