Tulips are in the market places.
I see them at the corner shoppes as I walk
over Beacon Hill and onto Charles street on my lunch hour.
The people are still in black coats, grey coats,
salt stained winter boots...
But I am in my bright purple fleece with no hat on
and I am carrying a bunch of tulips home with me.
Spring is fancy and fleeting here in New England.
She is a coquettish tease here one moment and gone the next...
so I grab my tulips while I may.
Macro Monday 2