Hey, Sally
Hey, Sally
I watch our daughters Rebecca
and Rachel browse so like you did.
They scour the stacks in a Rich-
mond book store, trailing big reads
for when they return to their com-
portable places. Home again,
feet up, tea cups steeping.
I came home from afternoon
office hours and found you stretched
out on the couch we bought in
the second-best store in Snowtown
and brought to Washpa. Your tea cup
was by your side and a cat curled
at your feet sleeping.
A significant novel, In-
dian or another latter-day
Dickens was tented half-way through
on your breast. I am filled with joy—
by daughters who continue
to scout out
great big books to accompany
tea cups steeping, cats sleeping,
on lazy afternoons.
Copyright © Bill Keen | Year Posted 2026
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