Loneliness settles into my bones like the chill of an early spring evening.
I head off into the gardens.
My nose brushes the sweet blooms of honeysuckle.
My arms gather spirea like a plump wedding bouquet.
My fingers run through the dangling bleeding hearts like strings on a harp.
The petite blossoms of the crab apple tree wink at me and I give a glittery eye back.
I hunt down the first of the lilacs, plunging my nose deep into the cluster of deliciousness.
I envy those hunched over, backs to the sun, hands nurturing the earth.
Sparrows bounce around at my feet and I say a prayer over a dead red breasted robin.
I am stopped in my tracks by the fields of tulips and daffy’s.
Color seeps into my lonely bones and I feel consoled.