A Sprout of Green

I slipped through the cracked sliding door onto the tiled balcony to catch the morning air. Among the terracotta pots, a cluster of fresh clover caught my eye. Kneeling on the weathered brick edge, I gently cupped two hands around a tiny dewdrop clinging to a leaf tip. When a gentle breeze rolled over the railing, the droplet wobbled and slid into the dark soil, leaving a glistening streak behind. I let out a low, content hum and watched the tiny green shoot straighten under the clear morning sky.