wild violets

I’m pretty sure my mother doesn’t read my blog. Actually, I don’t think she knows what a blog is. Even so, this post is for her.

The photo was taken along the bridle path en route from the village. And it’s dedicated to my mother with gratitude that I didn’t inherit the family flower name.

Author: don't confuse the narrator

Exploring the boundary between writer and narrator through first person poetry, prose and opinion View all posts by don't confuse the narrator