He points out the lettuce tree like the one at kindy
I correct with 'cabbage.' As long as there's no
brussel sprout trees he's not bothered
He whispers, see the wind breezing the beautiful
flowers, and the daffodils nod in delight
at this recognition
Our stale and snappy winter words have been
released and spring's warmth is seeping
into our conversation
I've got little hummings bubbling inside me and
I haven't swallowed a bee. I catch his sideways
look and we burst out laughing