Over a Pot of Soup – StormWeaver #17

The kitchen has windows withyellow shutters and white knobs,Plants spilling over the sill,A table with a honey pot, a plate of half eaten toast,Chloe stirs soup at the stove,Her is face flushed.She turns.“What happened?”“He touched the kite,” Rose answers. She peers into the pot. “Done.”“Adam, no!”“No? Have you touched it?” I ask.“Never. Mama says if … Continue reading Over a Pot of Soup – StormWeaver #17