Today sun fills my open hand with birdsong, flows along my arm, tickling fragile hairs awake. A drift of mint reminds my nose of dappling leaves waiting for me. Water flows across my toes as I share a drink with the garden. I wander on,…

She thought she needed more than who she was. She did not see the things that she was capable of. Like a garden long forgotten in full bloom she had a beauty that not even she knew. -h.e.m. 12 pm

Through the blinds I used to see a tall Norwegian maple with leaves the color of tanned leather bigger than my outspread hand. It had a scar along the trunk, a long vertical burn where lightning struck one afternoon without rain or storm.   We…

  CLOUDS IN JUNE   a funny dark cloud followed little June down her street one day, as if to say, “I’d like to make good use of your time.”   Naturally she scurried away, closed the door of wood behind her, only to hear…