I have a wing on one side only, she told me one time.
Nakedness is not the same as clarity, she said. Here, I’ll show you.
Now don’t be a lazy boy, she’d say. Her long smile.
She was full of cream and whiskey some days, cold water and flakes of rust on others.
She often daydreamed stepping lightly through the forest like an animal, one that belonged there, just going about its business, not in a movie, no fancy soundtrack. So she said. I hope she went that way or something like. She did love to have her way.
Photo credit: Gale
I have a copy of Nothing Short of 100 and my bookmark is permanently on page 70 marking this piece! So here it is years later and I finally thought to look you up! I love the piece especially the end about daydreaming in the forest!
Really great.
Thanks!