They kissed there for the very first time.
Their hearts pounding as the storm lashed the trees.
They made love there furtively on the grass.
The first humans to ever make love.
Five decades later, their grand kids stood there, a faded b/w picture in hand.

The old windmill smiled.

In the patience of the seed,
In the life waiting hushed beneath the snow,
In the longing of the night for dawn,
In the tiny tendril peeking through
a pavement crack,
In the little boy's terrified heart as she opens his note in class,
that wonderful thing: hope.