In the Shadows of a Little Boy:

 
Meandering through the dew-covered grasses at dawn, the slow bake of sweet magnolia surrounds me.
A bewitching brew of memory covers me like a million burning moons. I think of our first kiss over a quarter century ago and my breath becomes hitched to my pause on this thought. I rejoice in knowing that our kisses are just souvenirs of the love we share daily. We are getting older. Our grandson is growing. We are focused on his future. But, how could we have known that while we are living and loving, there’s a whole world dreaming of blinded hydrangeas and a Nuclear Winter of doom?
 
©️Winter Dawn Burns