As whispers do.

They’ve become water-colored,
my memories of you.
They hide in the wind as whispers do.

Moments brush-stroked in to the scene —
silent, maddening moments.

As whispers do.
Parking lot wall off Roosevelt Way.
Seattle, WA

Happy daffodil.

O: “I love it when the seasons change.”

She and Jake open the doors on either side of the Esteem and bend to get in.

O: “…luckily they’re always changing.”

Happy daffodil.
On 13th near Jake’s place