But that day, in the city with Muriel, their words and laughter muffled by scarves and coat collars, it had made her recall seeing a striking man on Charles Street years before—an elegant camel hair coat and trimmed moustache.
December 2023
![](https://i0.wp.com/cutleafjournal.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/12-653.jpeg?resize=363%2C188&ssl=1)
Geography
The town we were leaving, Andes, is quiet and lonely, ruled by landscape—a meadowed and mountain-ed paradise where the sunset turned the mountains red so that winter-time walks with my dogs sometimes felt like a baptism by bloody light.
![](https://i0.wp.com/cutleafjournal.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/13-653.jpeg?resize=363%2C188&ssl=1)
Mrs. God (and other poems)
Suckling at the clouds is not her business./
She is the drool the dog drops.