Back in December, I planted many bulbs. I envisioned a meadow. I saw parking-strip grass. My mother pointed out that December was not so long ago and I should be patient. I pointed out that evidence indicated the neighborhood squirrels had feasted on my dreams.
Lo, this week, I saw a bloom. Just one, but it made me so happy.
(Next year, I shall follow Laurie's example and put red pepper and black pepper right in the holes. They shall be well-seasoned flowers.)
Is there a poetry connection? Yes!
Sending out the many, many poems is like planting all those bulbs. Maybe only one work is accepted, but how exciting it is! And, as with planting, I always hope that the yield may increase next year, just as I hope that my work will grow.