Snowflakes and windchimes…surely something magical is about to happen.
On the porch, a wheelchair
Facing a brick wall.
Still so pretty.
the yellow faces of those tiny red flowers
The wordless moon
a found poem, source: “Ars Poetica” by Archibald Macleish
A kind gesture; he touches her cheek.
Their lips meeting while others watch.
The thinly sliced bread of the cucumber sandwiches.
An eight year old girl performing a mock tightwire act.
Louisa standing beside her beau. His dark skin stark against her fair complexion.
Paper lanterns hanging above the patio: green, yellow and white.
My darling mother, I send you these photographs of Louisa’s recent picnic in hopes that they fill you with utter joy!