The Ninth of Next November I’ll be eighty-four the ninth of next November. When I grow up what do I want to do? I think I’ll be a friend and maybe have some, and some of them, I hope, will be like you. If I put on my hungry look they’ll feed me. [...]
Dancing with Margaret Growing up, dances were part of her life, Maybell and Baggs and Meeker and Craig with Charlene and Carmen and Mame and Lou — like the dance at the Goose Egg up on the North Platte where Wister’s Virginian and one of his friends switched the babies around and nobody [...]
What’s in a Name? When I turned into you and I I was still my name and then I changed to youandI, — no spaces in between — and now my name has been revoked and I am I again, a name euphonious enough — but not the same — for it’s a [...]
In Our Town In our town twenty women, elderly, Widows mostly, sit alone at night Watching television or reading books Just to pass the time and ward off loneliness, Dreaming of what has been or might have been, Of hands that they have held or wish they had. The next day is the [...]
