The Garden

In June, she was a vision.

Straight, even rows of tiny, green shoots reaching toward the sun.

In July, she blossomed from summer rains. A familiar anticipation began to set in.

Then came August, and she was ripe with bounty.

Now, the fruits of our labor realized, we both rest.


Susan Gale Wickes is a writer, and a first-time gardener, from Indiana.


From: 50-Word Stories


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