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{wearing out} edward nudelman All summer long you put your face to the wind. Walked through narrow streets along the sea up hillside roads beside clapboard cottages, their garden-greened front yards and peonies peaking through picketed fences. On the way you said, “Let it never stop,” the bark’s sappy smell, the ant mounds on pavement you liked to count, one by one. The thrilling exhaustion in every moving thing. When autumn settled in with its abrupt decisions, you found a room more captivating than all those glittering gems and it’s where you remain, along one side of a narrow room, watching ants explore your world. |
