My Nameless Flower

Yesterday, I read part of my novel ‘Bonds With Angels’ at my writing group in Springfield. After listening to the memoirs of six women, I recalled my offer to Belle in regards to my autobiography about my late sister and I.

“I need a woman’s point of view.”

Last night I considered writing – as my sister – from her point of view. How does Christine see her art? That would be complex. Would I lose my identity in the process – more than I have already? Will I meet her – my co-authoress? This morning she came to me – and her husband – who wrote a Spiritual drama that was performed in Carmel. The photo above was captured there.

The day of Christine Rosamond Benton’s funeral, I found my grandfather’s poem in a box of family photos. I showed it to my mother and told her I was…