My Fellow Bread Loafers Unlikely you’ve read or heard yet. There are sheets, inscribed. Hanging from the Inn’s deck. Nailed to an Annex post. One, across the field, waving from Tamarack. Painted red and black. We Belong Here Too. I’m guessing you can imagine what it refers to. Pushing back, the phrase goes, to what a local yelled. From his pick-up truck. At a mother and her children. Sitting on a blanket. By what appears to be the cottage, Fritz. Where families stay. Faculty and … (read more)
