I’ve mentioned the children’s poem Dorothy Rose on the blog before now, and how the world can seem very different, depending on where you choose to look.

These photos, taken within a few yards of each other this morning, serve as a reminder that the bare, dripping branches of winter don’t tell the whole story.

raindrops on a bare branch
periwinkle flower and leaves

Author: don't confuse the narrator

Exploring the boundary between writer and narrator through first person poetry, prose and opinion

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