As I wind my way, slowly, toward wellness
Bugs and I sit quietly together. He is in the bowl of my belly. My hand cups the curve of his back.
Words are the only picture of that – not enough hands for the camera.
But here’s what outside looks like, these days.
Redbud for my dad, near his birthday.
He used to nurse one poor struggling specimen, up there in Michigan
Too cold for it, or something wasn’t right for it
But he loved it anyway.