April 1
April 1
Dear Jean,
As I survey the bright green hills and watch the poppies swaying in the breeze, I think of you. You are in my breast pocket, right over my heart, as I put foot to trail. Your legacy lives on.
As I survey the bright green hills and watch the poppies swaying in the breeze, I think of you. You are in my breast pocket, right over my heart, as I put foot to trail. Your legacy lives on.