Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
Lena would’ve continued the avenues of conversation, had the children not grown tired and seemingly done in by the day. Smiling sympathetically to both kids, she reached for her basket, and Mittens flickered down towards her shoulder, clearly trying to be innocent in the whole proceedings. Her voice remained kind and light, forging onward, and ready, willing, and able. “We can take you back home, if you’d like?” She wasn’t certain how much of a respite it’d be there, but sometimes just the notion of shelter was enough. All in all, a productive outing nonetheless, with more insights and pathways to explore.
{FIN}
{FIN}
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
