Following Procedure

Art Garfunkle brought me a line from “Waters of March” (Jobim). It conjured an image now preserved in an enduring memory of a particular place and time. Early one sultry summer morning, some fifty years ago in up-state Mississippi, a young man with a back-pack climbed down from a Greyhound Scenicruiser. . .  There’s noContinue reading “Following Procedure”