This morning while you are in the bath, Zocolo, the local florist, calls to say they hid a bouquet behind your porch chair.
You discover this…
Your daughter writes…Surprise!
I was thinking of sending you flowers…
How could a mother ever anticipate this haptic note, this brilliant and tender daughter love?
Solitary, but not alone, you brew coffee for a single mother with your daughter who lives in your heart (& happily in a more pacific climate across the Rockies.
No Gate No Lock 