The Last Rose


Actually, I am surprised to see even one rose left. But here it is, cold notwithstanding.

Going over to Jeff’s reminds me of going to my Grandma and Grandpa Holler’s. They, too, have a big old house on a large chunk of land that went way back behind the house.

They, too, live in the same house since it was built. They, too, have fruit trees and roses and flowers and rhubarb.

There is always rhubarb.

Sigh, the circle of life.

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