I spent an hour snipping flower stems,

hundreds of green stalks, some thick

but tender and others thin and

dense as sticks.  I pulled out each

bundle, released the most delicate

from webbed coverings, and the room

filled with a heavy floral scent.

As I sat amid the profusion of hues,

deep fuchsia, rich purple, soft ivory

topping the spray of verdant leaves,

I dreamed of lush Eden before fall,

back when we lived in a blooming

ever-spring with no winter at all.

—C.L. Fisher, September 2020

Unless otherwise indicated, all content, including writing and images, are the work of C.L. Fisher and may not be copied, used, or distributed without permission.

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