The air was clear , the evening coming on fast,
while all the cows and horses were lying down in each meadow we passed, and I
was remembering my husband's stories of being a kid in summer, when he and his
friends would grab frying pans and forks and bacon from all their houses while
all their parents were off at work and get aboard a raft they all made together
out of found scraps of wood and push their way across the small river to the
small island where they would light a small campfire and cook the bacon and chow
it down and then go on back by the raft and get on home before their parents
came home from their factories at 3:30, and all of it was good .
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