A Hundred Gourds 2:4 September 2013
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Carol Pearce-Worthington - USA

The Farmer’s Wife

Mother and I perch on the sofa: nice weather a bit warm haven’t had much rain how’ve you been ok and you, fine—silence . . . Uncle Dell wears a white bulb in his ear, still can’t hear. Mary offers thin cookies, a farmer’s wife in a clapboard house a block from Main Street. Some months or maybe years later, Uncle Dell is taken to an institution in Madison. Mother finds him there dazed and wandering while Mary, left in the deepening silence of her home as Dell sinks into the mud of his years, Mary drying up alongside the cornstalks in nearby autumn fields, and having no weight of her own and no one to cook or bake for and no one to stop her, Mary flies off unnoticed among butterflies and the down of wildflowers.

summer's end
her breath ruffles
the dream catcher

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