A Poem by a Three-Year-Old

My daughter wrote this poem while we were in Ravenna, Kentucky going through my Grandmother's estate. She was 3-1/2 at the time.

Flowers grow in the summertime.
When somebody dies,
   you never see them again.
Flowers grow in the springtime.

Jessica Graves
April 1, 1988

1 comment:

  1. She was a good chaplain to the family during that time.


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