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The Store (For Matthew): by Bonnie Broussard
Bonnie, “The grocer’s broad spade of a hand” triggered memories of my trips with my grandfather into the Italian communities around Trinidad, Colorado. Of course, there were no artichokes or semolina, but the “riddles” we’re there in the conversation. In your words I could picture the six-year-old me listening to the Italian couple quizzing my grandad. A delightful poem and beautiful gift. Lee Elsesser.