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Show Remember? 75 one growing season, when no rain came, I was the chosen sacrifice. Weep for me, my brother. Weep that I should die so young. My lover s t i l l cries out for me every night when the Milky Way is i t s milkiest. She held the back of her wrist at her forehead. Maybe I was that lover, Mark laughed, and here we are together again. He bowed to her, swept his arm across his body, and pledged his heart with his hand. Eagle Beak at your service. The name f i t s you well, she said, but this is serious. These rocks really do speak i f you listen right. She bent over to scratch under her wool sock where bristles on her legs were beginning to itch, and then put her ear back against the stone. My bedspread used to be green, didn't it? Mark asked, s t i l l listening for messages as she had told him to. And we used to play Authors on my bed, didn't we? Crossing the Bar, Lord Alfred Tennyson. Bleak House, Dickens. Poe too. I remember Scrabble best. That's because you cheated. You were older and worldly wise. You made up fake words. And I believed you. I know. The breeze pulled a strand from Anne's loosened braid, settled i t over her eyes. She pushed i t back behind her ear. You know, he said, s t i l l leaning against the rock wall, I've never told you t h i s , but when you l e f t home, I f e l t like you j i l t e d me. I was off to seek love, fame and fortune, my dear. But why did you forget me? I didn't forget. |
