Marjorie Buettner
Whisker Rub
My grandpa called it a whisker rub – I loved this rough love, since it was
the only time I could get close to him. One time I saw him crying at the
kitchen table after my grandmother died; I wanted to hug him then but I
left him alone with his loneliness – now that loneliness is mine.
Memorial Day –
a deer crosses over
the graves
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