A handful of white clover for Mother. She’ll place them in a paper vase–a small Dixie cup printed with a pink and yellow tulip pattern. On the kitchen windowsill, the bouquet will wilt in a few days time. But I’m her personal florist, and it’s summer–plenty more days ahead. I know she prefers my clovers over Dad’s red roses. My gifts aren’t apologies.
Love the unexpected bite of this Kindra!
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Thank you! 🙂
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My gifts are nor apologies
What a line
Sorry I haven’t been Around
As Sheldon Always
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Thank you, Sheldon. No apologies necessary, friend. Thank you for stopping by, it’s always good to hear from you. I hope you’re well. ❤
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