Something has Maddie concerned tonight. She waits at the back door, staring at it until I open it, then stands in the doorway, sniffing at the world, refusing to step outside. A bird circles high above, a neighbor’s television cants mantras, the washing machine rumbles. And Maddie stands there, staring upwards, toward the naked, halfmooned sky.

Reflections on the News of the Death of a Mentor

He had a picture
of Josephine Baker, thumbtacked
to his office wall.
When pressed, he’d gaze, longingly
at Josephine’s banana skirt,
chuckle, then say, “Ah, well, she’s my girl.”

People, Ideas, […], Things

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