Flowers
How they share our
desires, shape
our days.
Passion to hope,
fingertips to
lips. Some bud
easily, others
struggle. A little
water, light, a kind
voice. Sometimes so
little achieves
so much. Yesterday’s
sunflower droops on
the sill. Today’s promise
arrives with rain.
O at the Edges 
yes, they do
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That’s been my experience!
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This is lovely! Blooms individually temporary, yet they keep coming though seasons, dry spells may stall anticipated emergence. Good to focus on wilting as matter-of-fact while we angst over Ukraine being smashed deliberately. If Putin were a neighborhood kid stalking my yard blooms I’d know what to do – alas, I cannot alter his determined destruction – but I do harbor a confidence that Ukraine will bloom again after this season of demise. (Fingers crossed Putin WON’T.)
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Sometimes there’s so much beauty at our fingertips that we can’t or won’t see all the ugliness lurking about. But it’s there. I, too, remain hopeful about Ukraine.
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