I needed to walk.
Then walk some more.
And I did.
Climbing every rolling hill of green I saw.
But soon I was lost.
Then lost again.
Perhaps I wanted to be.
A mourning dove appeared as if to guide me back towards home.
Yet it was not a route I’d expected.
I soon found I was swimming in a sea of azaleas.
Pink, purple, white and orange.
In front of the citrus blooms stood one yellow chair.
A lonely old chair, some might say.
But I only saw its loving heart as azalea branches embraced us both in a breeze.
I’m thinking a chair is never truly empty.
Nor are we.
Our sweetest memories could just bloom there forever.