I saw the colour first ~
all along the walk there was
sunshine in the leaves ~
slipping back to the front yard
I was six maybe seven years old plucking a delicate flower from a long branch savouring the nectar from the soft yellow neck just as the busy bees on my afternoon walk.
“Memories were like sunshine. They warmed you up and left a pleasant glow, but you couldn’t hold them.”
~ Clare Vanderpool, Moon Over Manifest
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