A gentle drizzle of summer rain fell like a blanket of sodden gauze on the meadow. Morning crept across the field like a reluctant…
I unbury my tentfrom the closet floor,to loan it to my daughter.
When did you last use it?
I unfurl the desert from the bag,the dust scent held for a decade,my crisp, blue parachute.
and so she did.
originally posted in July 13, 2007 in South Jersey Kitchen Garden blog ©SGHolland