Our first married buy is an 1860 bed that has made it to the States by container ship. English, we think, but French, we are told, chateau furniture from the coast of Normandy. The Channel was a conduit of influence. This strikes us funny, repeated in the car. The next week we set out to haul the bed home. It’s two states away, the Hudson spread out below our rental truck in its
endless, landless flow. “Christ that my love,” I begin to recite, for crossing the bridge, in cold slanting rain, it seems we have set out to sea.
endless, landless flow. “Christ that my love,” I begin to recite, for crossing the bridge, in cold slanting rain, it seems we have set out to sea.
by Charles Hansmann
Sea Cliff, New York
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