Runcible Spoon

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                       Woodlands

 

Deep snow muffles footsteps.

I approach the mill-owner’s house:

cream stone, late-Regency.

 

Under the porch

icy water trickles my neck.

Which casement belongs to the kitchen?

 

          Nelly Dean is there forming

          a tureen of hot apple sauce

          to accompany the roasted goose.