Walk the Blue Fields (2013)
“It’s hot in New York but it may turn cold in winter. All morning the bantam cocks have crowed. It’s not something you will miss. You must dress and wash, polish your shoes. Outside, dew lies on the fields, white and blank as pages. Soon the sun will burn it off. It’s a fine day for the hay.
In her bedroom your mother is moving things around, opening and closing doors. You wonder what it will be like for her when you leave. Part of you doesn’t care. She talks through the door.
‘You’ll have a boiled egg?’ ‘No thanks, Ma.’ ‘You’ll have something?’ ‘Later on, maybe.’ ‘I’ll put one on for you.’ Downstairs, water spills into the kettle, the bolt slides back. You hear the dogs rush in, the shutters folding. You’ve always preferred this house in summer: cool feeling in the kitchen, the back door open, scent of the dark wallflowers after rain.
In the bathroom you brush your teeth. The screws in the mirror have rusted, and the glass is cloudy.
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