she looked down
at the sawdust on the
wooden floor when the
storekeeper asked her how
she was going to pay for it, the
leather piping around the storekeeper's
collar and cuffs was frayed,

"can you put it on
my tab, I've got a butter
customer due me?"

"what I like about you
Woman of Persimmon Hill,
you don't dump starving herds
on already glutted markets and
you pay your tab...alright then, get
what you need." 

Woman of Persimmon
Hill picked up the walnut
mandolin propped up against
the basket of cherrywood spindle
bobbins and climbed aboard her oak
wagon in companionship with her team
of horses heading on back to Persimmon Hill,

she set the mandolin
on the maple shelf on her
mantel next to her Holstein
collectibles, then walked past
her empty quilt rack to the barn,

with a broom handle
in her hand, she lathed
and whittled it down to
replace the storekeeper's
broken spindle on the staircase,

her butter customer pulled
up, they went inside to make
butter, kissed each other in heated
passion melting the staircase to the
bedroom, the storekeeper pulled off her
tattered piping shirt, her voluptuous breasts
churning for Woman of Persimmon Hill's lips,
"we must add a room for all of your collectibles,"
the storekeeper said,

"populate the mantel!"
Woman of Persimmon Hill
cried, the hallmark of their affair
polished the lusterware pitchers on
the mantel,

she looked down
at the sawdust on the
wooden floor when the
storekeeper asked her how
she was going to pay for it, the
leather piping around the storekeeper's
collar and cuffs sewn anew with Woman
of Persimmon Hill's barter needle,

"can you put it on
my tab, I've got a bread
customer due me?"

"what I like about you
Woman of Persimmon Hill,
you don't dump starving herds
on already glutted markets and
you pay your tab...alright then, get
what you need." 

Woman of Persimmon
Hill picked up the quilt
hung over the staircase with
a newly replaced broom handle
spindle and climbed aboard her
oak wagon in companionship with
her team of horses heading on back to
Persimmon Hill,

she draped the quilt
over her pine quilt rack,
then walked to the kitchen
to where her oak pantry and
blue willow dishes would soon be,
Woman of Persimmon Hill baked
spiced persimmon bread...


Copyright 2006 Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist