My father, dead, seven years now, would love to see these VIOLETS, on his walks. AND now, i go in his stead and remember.
i have a feeling i will be too late to see 'em this year however. Far too late! Seems like a forlorn expectation. Plenty of narcissi...plenty of 'em...
......I do not see the violets. i look as i progress along the path towards the spot. I LOOK. Then I do see 'em. Just a few, clinging-on for me. They are there. THEY ARE THERE STILL....
*
No comments:
Post a Comment