Picking Daisies

The warm south wind blows away the chill from the tiny girl's nose and fingers.

She is trying to find some flowers for the tables.

She is picking poppies and daisies one by one.

The stems pop like their name when they are picked.

Then she hears a really loud pop.

it echos all the way to the mountains.

Brother must have been throwing rocks again.

She makes a popping song by smacking her lips while she skips back home.

The house is lit by the sun and the bricks are warm as she runs her fingers over the dried red clay. 

The front door is ajar.

She wants to surprise her mommy.

She isn't in the kitchen so she jumps up on the counter to get out a cup for her flowers to be in clear water.

She knocks off a jar and it crashes to the ground.

Bang, bang, bang.

She is so relieved it didn't break. 

She fills the cup with water, still sitting on the counter.

She looks out the window above the sink.

Her mommy is digging int he garden with a big shovel.

She is planting flowers for spring, she thinks.

She loves mommy's beautiful flowers.

Her mommy is crying though.

Maybe the flowers will cheer her up.

The little girls mother looks up to see her daughter dancing out of the house.

She dries her tears and she knows everything will be okay now.

Tomorrow is a new day.

She will have to think of where the kids 'daddy' went.

But her daughter never has to worry about her 'daddy' sneaking in her room ever again.

And next spring all of her favorite flowers will bloom right here

 and eat away the sadness in the ground below.