My grandmother twirls the tiny stem of a yellow blossom. “This is woodsorrel,” she says.

I nod, studying the petals. “What’s it used for?”

She barks a laugh and the crow’s feet around her eyes multiply. “Why would it need a use? Is it not enough to just be alive?”

Jenna Manley is a poet, author, and artist who lives with her fiancé, a mischievous cat, and a very handsome dachshund mix. She has been published in the Cold Moon Journal and Tiny Wren Lit. You can follow her work on Twitter at @jenna_e_manley.