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loneliness: [13] thirteen

by Brian Fuchs

Dust and saltlicks and fuzzy caterpillars. I loved the farm. I often complained about the heat or stickerweed or the heat -- such incredible heat. I was secretly relieved and secretly upset when G, with her parents moved into town. Where in town was the garden full of overripe squash and where in town were the cows, anxious for discarded watermelon or cantaloupe rind for dessert. They moved to be close to a hospital -- to make certain they would have a place near for death. Poor G, it broke her heart, and us kids would sit around making all kinds of noise and she wanted to cry. Cry now, G, cry. Were off making noises in our own places -- we're grown now. We know you need a little peace -- we will be quiet now.

1.29.2000

01/29/2000

Posted on 02/20/2009
Copyright © 2024 Brian Fuchs

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