Perschel ex machina

Michael Titus

He remembers flowers and other growing things there. Though life is different now and the weather of the heart, like the seasons, have changed, he finds solace in the variety of shades, hues and shapes that surround him. Then and now. There and here.

“The changes can be a kindness,” he remarked.
“I know,” I said.

We might have both wept, then and there -- for joy and grief -- but we walked on, walked on. Somewhere a child played at hopscotch and -- if that was all there was -- it would be enough.