At My Son’s Society Wedding They Seated Me In The Last Row Because They Thought I Was Poor

here,” he said.

“You said that.”

“I thought it was worth saying again.”

I accepted the glass of wine and looked out over the valley and thought about the years that had brought me to this terrace, the long plain of my marriage and my teaching career and my grief and my son’s gradual removal of himself from my life, and Thanksgiving in Denver where a man continue reading …