Three Dollar Honey


     Bit of Pennsylvania Lottery litter in the parking lot of The World’s Cleanest Grocery Store this morning when it was getting light out but did not seem nearly as bright as at three in the morning when the full moon was shining. Three dollars on the black white and grey side with honey and a bee on the other. The whole gambling ticket was torn up; this fragment survived, by chance or by design, or by the shopping cart corral.

   Saw one heron fishing from a spot below the Red Bridge studio – it seemed to have found a place that wasn’t quite as rapid as the rest of the creek. Up near the 422 overpass, the bank of the stream was only an arm length down to the water, usually it is a fairly precipitous slop to the water. Small islands are covered.

   In town, I had permission to claim a discarded bureau or highboy of some kind, the kind nobody wants. It was too heavy for me to lift and carry for two parts of two blocks.

   “Do you have a hand truck?” asked the workman at the building from which the furniture item was abandoned.

   “Let me look at home,” I said,

   I had no hand truck. What I do have is a plywood flat with iced tea advertising on it, that has four wheels attached to the bottom. It measures about three by two feet. It was simple to tilt the furniture on its side and drop it with gentle precision and then wheel it across the sidewalk, down the sloped curbs and across the street although as I was doing so those stock images of chase scenes in movies where people carry say, large windows, across a street and have to go back and forth to avoid breaking it.

   This did not happen. The furniture, which I plan to refurbish as a tabouret without wheels, arrived safely at the studio. The grey kitten is in the back yard and does not run away so fast as it did at the beginning of the month. I feed it.

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