A boy from Brooklyn used to cruise on summer nights.As soon as hed hit sixty hed hold his hand out the window,cupping it around the wind. Hed been assuredthis is exactly how a womans breast feels when you putyour hand around it and apply a little pressure. Now he knew,and he loved it. Night after night, again and again, untilthe weather grew cold and he had to roll the window up.For many years afterwards he was perpetually attemptingto soar. One winters night, holding his wifes breastin his hand, he closed his eyes and wanted to weep.He loved her, but it was the wind he imagined now.As he grew older, he loved the word etcetera and refusedto abbreviate it. He loved sweet white butter. He oftenpretended to be playing the organ. On one of his last mornings,he noticed the shape of his face molded in the pillow.He shook it out, but the next morning it reappeared.
About This Quote
About Mary Ruefle
Mary Ruefle was poet, essayist, professor. Mary Ruefle is an American poet, essayist, and professor. She has published many collections of poetry, the most recent of which, Dunce, was long-listed for the National Book Award in Poetry and a finalist for the 2020 Pulitzer Prize. Read more on Wikipedia →