
She looked out to the river. The rumbling rapids helped to quiet her pulse. She sat crossed legged on the flat stones and gave a child’s bucket to her grandson to fill and water the lilies on the shore. Back and forth he repeated the dunking; sauntering to the shore, splashing water on the bed of lilies. Suddenly, the little guy asked , “Why are you crying, Nana?” He pointed to a teardrop slipping down her cheek. She looked stunned, having been in another world for a few seconds, “Oh, I’m not crying, sweetheart, I was daydreaming about butterflies.”
Butterfly wings
caress her cheek
banished tear
© Tournesol’15
Sweet and beautiful.
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Thanks, Martha. Hope you are well and enjoying the summer.
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I am, thank you.
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Beauhtiful! I adore your writing style and imagination. I look forward to reading more of your stories. Have a wonderful day 🙂
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thank you so much, I am most humbled by your kind words!
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You’re welcome 🙂
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