. My Mother’s Eyes We took a ride into the countryside to search for bluebells but we first saw phlox. Delighted by the sight my mother cried, “Look at the flowers flutter on the rocks! Look at the bluebells!” I looked at my clock. Long ride, no blue, no bells, but don’t be snide. Still I replied, ”They’re flirts like new spring frocks, But they’re not bluebells. Bluebells are spring’s pride and joy, much better than phlox.” I can’t hide my thoughts so well, but I tried not to mock her as she saw by the creek, eyes sky wide, parades of bluebells, face rapt and awestruck. I wish I could see with my mother’s eyes bluebells and phlox, perpetually surprised. . . Carl Kinsky is a country lawyer living in Ste. Genevieve, Missouri.