THE HUB OF MY JOINT
Pleasantries abound, but they can never take the
place of small things made larger than life - to think
back of when, as a small boy, a cat would lick my
hand, or the thrown ball would soar the fence, that
makes all the difference now. The hub of my joint
being the core of your heart, I now have - so to
speak - this vast cabin in the woods in which to
stay. My door jamb squeaks, yes it does, but it is
not from too little use, and they tell me, these
mountain natives do, that this place was
once a very large mansion.
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