Through the Crack

I followed the cool draft across the floorboards. Step. Plod. The big glass patio door was cracked open just wide enough for my body. A dry fallen leaf blocked the bottom track. I did not step around it. I walked straight through it. Crunch. My clay foot carried a crumb of leaf as I reached the stone step outside. Fresh air smelled of moss and deep dirt. Down in the garden, green shoots stood waiting. I stopped, staring out at all the soil.