I was going to write some sweet story about Amish quilts and ended up with this!?
This week’s photo and my entry…
Comes A Spring Wind
It’s early Spring. Orange poppies and soft lavender wisteria vines grow against and up our backyard fence.
You walk up, from behind me, and I lean back into your embrace. Seeds carried here by the wind we decide. Then we head on into supper.
Later that evening, the fickle Spring night turns cold. I think I’m dreaming of gunshots and screams, coming from next door, swirling in the wind. And then you wake me up.
“Dd you hear that?” I ask.
“Did you call the police?”
In what seems like forever, we walk to our bedroom window and look outside. Old man Sullivan is standing on his front stoop. He is handing a gun to someone. He is crying. Red lights are flashing everywhere.
photo: TJ Paris