In grief my love, look for the daffodils. It may not be actual daffodils of course. It might in fact be the sunrise outside your window as you draw back the curtains one morning. It might be the decision to draw back the curtains at all, after weeks of being comforted by the dark. It … Continue reading “In grief, my love, look for the daffodils” a poem by Becky Helmsley →