a golden shovel after Amy Berkowitz
Twenty years in California. The
tally of true friends, lines from heart
to heart to heart. Then, bigger wants
drew us back east—daughters in NYC, a
sister and brothers in Ohio, home. Snowstorm
winters, steamy summers didn’t deter us; it’s the
very climate and topography a heart
seeks when away, familiar soil it wants.
For, doesn’t that dirt coat our skin, doesn’t it
feed us, don’t we track it from streets to
our very doorsteps—doesn’t it stick?
