In the dark, no one can hear you scream. In the silent swirling void of the chaotic mess of my yesteryear, memories disappear into despair.
And yet, we are never without hope. Pain is never without end.
Buried deep in her garden, luscious red tomatoes wait beside starchy rich potatoes and more.
Patiently, wiping sweat from her brow with a single gloved hand, she watches and waits. The other gardeners will return one day. They will learn to till the land and wait and see. Then, they will come to see her, she knows.