AND ONE SPOT OF YELLOW

Photo by S. Auberle

I have a cup of green tea in the green swan mug and a green candle burns before me.  The green cedars are scrabbling against the windows as the wind whips them furiously this morning.  Mozart plays softly in the background and I write at the old, cat-scratched, cherry table from the 1950's that I bought on Jefferson Street seven years ago.  And here is the yellow rose that you brought me...