| Butler Pennsylvania 40 Butler Woman It called for a headstone, raw earth covered with snow that had fallen since we had buried her two lonesome months before. But first the earth must settle, he said, who was chiseling her name now in stone. The plot is not far from where she watched right up to the last, wheelchair-erect, from her dining room window, letting her eye skim westwards across that stony ridge jagged by obelisks to the skies beyond— her open book she sat there reading from and meditating on. From where her marker lies you can see at times flashes of light from off the windowpane where she sat and near it that valiant old oak up close beside her house still standing watch as if she were living there yet. Next Home |
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