POST 123: Poem, painting, duck hunting, herons,Italy, Mrs. Richardson

by Carol Bass

ALWAYS, MRS RICHARDSON, ALWAYS

Getting on the wrong train in Italy
with the nun in the seat next to her
looking in silent disapproval at her bare legs

The surprised girl at five years
lifting the pitcher of iced tea
out of the fridge
and the glass bottom
cracks out like a flapjack
splashing wetness all over the floor

hearing shots of duck hunters
in the cold December morning

The brown dog stretching
moans on the sofa
and the stove crackles
with hot flames

All this time
the blue herons wait
by the water fishing

observing
and your love
always there
always

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