“You just wait here. I’ll be right back.”
August 6, 2011 § Leave a comment
And that’s what I did. I waited, but you never came back. You left me peeling oranges on the bank of the Palouse River, throwing the rinds sharply into the current, making them skip in my head. By the time I realized that you were not coming back, the oxbow half a mile down had trapped each fleck of orange rind in its rill, lining the shallowest part of the riverbed with white. The still surfaces of the water winked at the sun from the oils that rose up. Citrus aromas were left suspended from the air; the imperceptible clothesline aroused the birds but they could not land. The goldfinch and meadowlark cooed around the banks, wandering with their mouths making arrows at the sky and just as lost as I. Still, I had no scent to follow.