Strange—but long
after
the moment
is over—I still just can't
stop myself
from
graphically picturing—
the steel
glossy blueeyes and fierce leather-
drawn
tips of the woman—
behind the smart
flossy card-
table's
spindles of fingers—
steadily
darning
away in her kitchen—
day after next—
any!
such insolent
slight imperfections—in wool
puppy sweaters.
