Spring is here and all is yellow. Cups of sorrel and daffodils wag in the green, mustard blossoms smear the fields, and the pollen bombs of acacia trees dangle above the roads. Spring is doing what it does every year: the so ngbirds hoovering the berries, the gophers tunneling under the fence from your yard to mine. An ambulance brings you home for the last time.
Click here to read Spring Moon.