By Ruby Peru When, at ages twelve and thirteen, Maureen and I were deposited for safekeeping on an Arizona horse ranch for the duration of the summer of 1980, it was very much as if we had both dropped from outer space, but from completely different spaceships. The ultimate tomboy,…
by Don Mager While cold’s persistence officiates, afternoon’s amnesia sweeps away the dinge of clouds. Sundown plays suites of madrigals on pianissimo recorders. Counterpoints weave off-beats at low registers. Modulations melt. Descant sherbets—treble creams—drops of lemon tenors—contra basses in their azure barkings—and dancing at the upper edges, small piquant sopranino…