Vases of peonies, vases of roses, a tiny vase of thyme--

A cool morning. The grass in my small field glitters, dew-heavy, in the new sunshine.

Black coffee in a white cup.

The grief of a friend, whose niece was murdered this week. I do not know how or why. All I know is the note in my lap.

The chaos of my friend's heart. The peace of this place. I cannot reconcile them.