For every week the war goes on, I plant a row of sunflower seeds. Before long, two rows turn into a dozen. After a while, blooming begins. Soon, golden yellow sunflowers are everywhere. Whenever someone asks how many sunflowers have bloomed, I shake my head and say, Far too many.
Lisa loves quiet walks and coffee. She’s been published in various literary journals, including Blink-Ink and Potato Soup literary journal.
Empire.
A beautiful thought with a sad ending. Enjoyed your story.
Thank you Lisa! :)
Thank you Edythe. :)
A poignant story beautifully told. 💕
Such a contrast: the bright yellow of sunflowers, the symbol of the Ukraine, and the darkness of war.
Such irony. Will there ever be enough sunflowers?