i thought i was bad enough to deserve any punishment.. & he told me a story about a wrong he’d done 60 years earlier. it was just one of the ways this taciturn man let me know how much he loved me.
I'm a cook. And I write, sometimes about food, mostly poems. I make stuff. I get lost. I'm worried about vanishing bees, melting icecaps, the decrease of civility in the world, seedless watermelons, and whether there will be enough time for me to get it all right.
4 comments:
Beautiful.
Hmmmm, so what was the wrong????
dear anonymous
mother of quinnton: he stole a pocket watch from a neighbor, and his father made me fess up and give it back.
xo, d
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