Sunday, July 24, 2016
A rose isn't delicate
Neither is childhood. My childhood brims with memories of the backyard. I learned early-on that wild roses are delicate-looking but hardy and prolific. Later I learned there's far less than 6 degrees of separation between a flower and a weed. Alas, there wasn't a bench in my childhood backyard. Life isn't perfect; though childhood is a layering of textures surprisingly hardy, robust & delicate. Quite the mix. Just what I aim for in a meal. And a poem.