isible from the bleachers, blue shading to gray.

"Go, Mustangs!" a dark haired woman in her prime said to a friend
joining her. "Hi, Willow."

"Morning, Cree." Willow set down a canvas tote bag and the two
exchanged hugs. "Brrrr."

"I know." Cree pointed at the boys who were running together as a
whistle blew. "They get to keep warm."

"We do, too. Coffee." Willow pulled a thermos from the bag. "Cocoa.
Scones."

"Scones! Willow, you are too much."

"I am the mother of a Mustang," Willow said. "God!"

"We are wild; we conquer," Cree said. "But this team is supposed to be
tough. "Go, Bart!" she yelled.

"I'm not supposed to cheer," Willow said. "What do you think? Start
with coffee?" She poured two cups. "I couldn't believe it when I saw
you at the school."

"It's so weird," Cree said. "It seems like yesterday we were sitting
around in Woodstock. And then, in another way, it seems like forever."

"I brought you something." Willow handed a sheet of paper to Cree.
"Patrick got in touch with Gino last year, and Gino sent this to him. I
copied it for you."

Aesthetic

Muses too are easily bored

and sometimes prefer a tickle

to a grand assault.

You have filled the cathedral with flowers;

organist and choirmaster poised

you stand there expectant

dressed in your best suit.

You may find that

yawning, somnolent with incense,

she has slipped away

around the corner to a restaurant

where a painter

having sketched the

waiter on a paper napkin

uses it to blot the marinara sauce

from his blue silk tie.

Cree read and wrinkled her nose. "That's Gino, all right. I think he's
happy in the Maine woods. His relationship is good. He doesn't make any
money, but what else is new?" She shook her head. "Well, we got Bart
made, anyway."

"Go, Bart!" Willow said. "So, how's your business?"

"Every time I think it's going to die, it surprises me and comes back
to life."

"Must be fun going to Italy on buying trips."

"It is fun sometimes. And deductible. How does Patrick like it at the
university?"

"He enjoys it," Willow said. "He likes the research best, but he
doesn't mind the teaching. The kids love him."

"Of course they do," Cree said. "Now, I'm trying to remember--weren't
you into music?"

"I was. I mean, I am. I love it, but I don't perform or anything."

"Bart is pretty good on the piano. I'm thinking of changing to a better
te