The Hidden Lines of the Family Land We Shared

base of a split-rail fence post.

A small cluster of pale green shoots had pushed through the dark mulch, their tiny leaves glistening with melted frost.

“The winter grass is already coming back,” I said.

She nodded slowly, a small, soft smile showing at the corners of her mouth.

“It is more than the grass,” she whispered, stepping closer to the damp earth.continue reading …