Berthe Morisot Child in the Hollyhocks, 1881
written by: Aleathia Drehmer
I watch her sweet face
from the window, the garden
lush with new green spring.
Her pale blue dress and
gleam of apricot hair try
to blend her into
the hollyhocks and
climbing roses. I could sit
in this moment for
eternity to
bear witness to the person
she’ll become outside
my purview. Headstrong, quiet,
and unafraid of living.
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