Three Days Before the Casket Was Delivered, My Son Asked Me to Sign a Document

A blue jay settled on the fence and watched her, then took off toward the maple.

“What do the bulbs do down there in the dark?” she asked.

“They grow roots.”

“Like the light in the corner does?”

“Something along those lines.”

She rinsed the last bit of dirt off the trowel and laid it on the step to dry.

I gazed at the row of bulbs beneath the soil and thought about the spring.

At eight that evening, the acorn light glowed soft and yellow in the corner of Chloe’s room.