Flower Ghosts
The world shifts completely based on the space between two numbers on the thermometer. I lay in bed, then, hearing the restless wind. I imagined the ghosts of countless salvia flowers, thanked them for the way they’d made sunset multiply and hover in the garden, how they’d fed the hummingbirds and bees. I imagined their spirits filling the invisible air like tiny red flower kisses sailing up through the clouds, beyond the moon. Continue reading