Seasons In Spring -

Primrose walked back slowly, counting. She counted forty-seven crocuses, twelve daffodils, and one dandelion already brave enough to be yellow. She planted the acorn by the old oak in the town square.

She’s here. Spring is here.

The Keeper smiled and handed her a single acorn. “Count the flowers on your way home. Every one you see is a promise kept. And when you get back, plant this somewhere it can see the morning sun.” seasons in spring

Primrose looked up. An old woman was sitting on a mossy log, her lap full of wild onion sprouts. She wore a coat made of stitched-together burlap sacks, and her hair was the color of last autumn’s leaves. Primrose walked back slowly, counting