3114. RECITATIF

RECITATIF
(south bandermas mountain)
I had worn my hoops, my skirted
Scottish garter, the twine-dress
given once by Mallarme. Every
line, every instance, I knew just
what to say - had memorized
the words a million times, recited
anew by heart and mind.
-
We walked down to the valley; a
longer trek than I'd imagined it would
be, talking constant, nodding strenuously.
Every little nuance found had its meaning.
Head and shoulders above the rest, he
managed to bring me along. Docent and
protege? How would that go? By the
end of the final sentence, as well,
we'd reached the end of the line.
-
This was the little town, he said,
of heartbreak and loss, wherein
he'd been dwelling for years.
South Bandermas Mountain,
the well by the inn, the old
carriage depot where the
lumber yard stood, the
canal and the water,
still running.