memory

There’s the repaired swivel chairon the patio still ableto hold your weight, and there’s the morning breezebrushing past your cheek, and there’s the presenceof the Japanese mapletransplanted long agofrom your father’s backyard. Now you’re gettingused to things that will notbe happening again— from now on never to lookinto a pair of eyessaying, Let’s go somewhereand… Read more