°°Of Withering and Blossoms°° I glare at the window to find the streetlight where once the laughters of kids climbing the trees, throbbed. I look at the vase, where once a blossom smiled, brightening the atmosphere. |caption | °°Of Withering and Blossoms°° I glare at the window to find the streetlight where once the laughters of kids climbing the trees, throbbed. I look at the vase, where once a blossom smiled, brightening the atmosphere. My brain tries to accommodate both the clusters
