Bloom
To have doused my soul in tender magnolias freshly wet with spring rains is more than I had dared to wish For how long do we have together? Quicker than the blush of a young girl at the gate of childhood
It is not lost on me, who waits on the other side, that the girls will soon leave the garden and the magnolias will shower the path before them
BY MARYANN LAWRENCE
75
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