Some Things I Will Never Forget Are...

ZOE BORKOWSKI

… the smell of newly-plowed fields and making a nest of clods of soil in a furrow and sitting hidden with the damp earth around me, watching my miniature box kite nod at me from the sky and answer my questions with a dip, a rise, a slip to the side. The clouds and blue and seagulls and the dangerous telephone lines at the end of the field at East 14th Street across from the Chevrolet plant and again the fresh smell of soil all around me, and Mother calling.

… the touch of Doris in my sleeping bag, my first infatuation at camp, the pine trees and Mountain Misery surrounded us, it’s a plant so many said stinks but we campers loved the fragrance and included it in letters to friends at home. The sky filled with bright white stars.

… the view of the bay from the Berkeley hills as the light of the approaching day seemed to engulf me and bring awe, a knowledge that this love in my arms would be forever.

… Mother’s clear blue eyes cast upward at the surgeon the day before her brain tumor operation. She has just said in a dramatic voice, “After all, it’s you I trust, doctor.” And she held a long, pregnant pause. The silence surrounded me in my embarrassment.

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