The boards of the porch are hot, and the air is still, and the steps are covered with leaf-shadows and golden threads from the honeysuckle. Then there's a breeze that rattles the leaves in the trees across the street, and I can see that the green honeysuckle berries are turning into shiny red beads.
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AuthorBitter Water
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. Archives
June 2019
Categories© Francie Nevill and Every Sweet Thing, 2017.
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