Homesick

I went to my old apartment today to pick up some mail and it made me miss my garden. As I stood outside the front door, waiting for Stephen to give me my mail I wondered what it must look like now. Covered in snow, of course, but I wonder if the new tenant trimmed back the grape vines for the winter, or if she fixed that one stone on the patio that was lose. I wonder if she'll like the bulbs I planted at the end of last summer; whether she'll think of the woman who must have put all those seeds in the ground for her spring garden. I wonder if she'll look at the azalea and marvel at its color the way I did when it first bloomed. It's heart breaking to know I'll never be able to go back.