A Bed of Loam

I gathered the small glass seed vial against my dress as the garden grew dark outside the cold frame. Inside our glass shelter, the damp air stayed quiet and warm. Kneeling by the overturned terracotta pot, I used my fingertips to scoop a shallow hollow into the soft loam. Deliberately... I laid the vial inside. I gathered dry green moss from the sill and smoothed it gently over the clear cylinder, leaving only the dark cork stopper peeking out. The five black seeds rest still beneath the earth. The little hare nestled down into my hair with a soft sigh. Everything is calm for the night.