Under the Willow.

Ducks lazy in the river. Squirrels scratching the picked earth. Our blankets spread. Our hearts laid out, too, like open canvas. Splattered, knit, checkered, and woven. All a mixture of present and past, looking future.

But there is this unusual commitment that gathers under the willow tree. Its consistent, bold, common, and rare. Its protected treasure. Precious pearl. Glint and glimmer, held diamond in the rough.

Captive in grace.

We sit. Together. Under the Willow.

To Trish & Lindsay; The TriRad.