© Terri Webster Schrandt It happens at every peeper’s first song — velvet blossoms call. Unfurled at the lake, I again remember your face receding. ~love~ Like a burr I’m unaware I carry, it settles on me. Dwindling as it disperses, yet doomed; planted with its velvet nightshade. Memuente form created by Kerfe for Colleen’s…