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She walked past the plate glass window next to the booth where I sat with my friend Bill in the worst hamburger joint on the eastern seaboard, eating a dripping grease burger oozing with melted Velveeta cheese of all things with fries fresh from a year in the freezer. She was twelve months pregnant, maybeContinue reading “Madonna with Child”
I still see her climbing over the stile to meet the cows coming to the barn over the hard ground at sundown. I hear her saying, “I’ll miss these old cows,” and think, the cows miss her, too, in their way. We all do.