Quills By The Creek
When I was a kid I liked to walk down the creek to pick marsh marigolds. I would take my time, sitting by the mossy rocks and mud. Horsetails stuck out along the creek bank like green quills, and I couldn't resist snapping them apart at the seams. Red winged blackbirds and Yellow Warblers came and went, singing their hellos and goodbyes, and I would finally wander home, marigolds in hand.
Signed and Numbered