December drabbles - 21
“D’you hear the geese?”
Flocks flew overhead, but “Not geese Mom,” said the child. “It’s God’s organ-pipes playing.”
Blackbirds rose in a fluttering cloud. “D’you see the birds?” said Mom
“Not birds. They’re angels.”
“D’you smell the smoke?” from a hundred fires, heating a hundred homes.
“Hay,” said the child.
“Can you feel the cold?”
“God’ll keep me warm.”
“Can you taste the air on your tongue?”
The little girl opened her mouth and gazed up at the sky. “Like honey,” she said, “and sweeter than wine.”
“And what do you know about wine?”
“Well, you tell me ‘Stop whining.’”
Flocks flew overhead, but “Not geese Mom,” said the child. “It’s God’s organ-pipes playing.”
Blackbirds rose in a fluttering cloud. “D’you see the birds?” said Mom
“Not birds. They’re angels.”
“D’you smell the smoke?” from a hundred fires, heating a hundred homes.
“Hay,” said the child.
“Can you feel the cold?”
“God’ll keep me warm.”
“Can you taste the air on your tongue?”
The little girl opened her mouth and gazed up at the sky. “Like honey,” she said, “and sweeter than wine.”
“And what do you know about wine?”
“Well, you tell me ‘Stop whining.’”
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