This weekend I drove by my former childhood home and noticed that the garden my mother had so carefully tended in the past had become a wild jungle of overgrown green. Her flowers were still there, gently reminding me of her talents.

“My mother grew morning glories that spilled onto the walkway toward her porch Because she was a woman with land who showed as much by giving it color. She told me I could have whatever I worked for..” Jericho Brown

Waterflowers, 2019