Currants
Red flowering currants, alive with bumblebees — that’s what a little warmth and sunlight will do, not forgetting, of course, the three hundred sixty-four days that led to this moment. Don’t you just love them? she said, and we stood talking for a while. My mother had dementia. I flew to Massachusetts every two to three months. There goes a hummingbird — the earth turning all the while. ~ [ […]
William Michaelian 