Pen and ink on paper, 24” x 18”, Framed

Reconciliation

By Brooke Dearman 

Her grandchildren ran through the wet grass with bare feet. Their laughter trailed towards the starry sky as fireflies danced around them. 

They were wild, free. 

She’d once been enchanted by the lush, rolling woods of her home. Not anymore. The land was a burden. Everyday she trudged the overgrown path to the mailbox. Every night she shut the curtains. 

But she, too, used to howl at the moon. 

She gulped. Hesitantly, she slipped her shoes off. 

Each step was an apology. Each step was an offering. 

She took a deep breath. 

Relief washed over her like rain.