Touch
November 9 — Touch
Dew clung to my many leaves—pearls of water, cool and slick. Gravity pulled them off me, a gentle tugging. When the water droplets finally fell to the soil, the release of their weight flung me back. Bouncing on my stem, I relished the feel of soft wind and air against my blade. I settled into the stillness of morning and waited patiently to feel the sun’s heat warm me.
Сайхан Бичээрэй!
H