On the twelfth day of
Christmas, my true love sent to me
twelve drummers drumming…
Dear
John, 1-6
There
are 23 fowl, eight cattle, 17 women, and 33 men camped out at my modest home. With
twelve drums added to the bagpipes, the lowing of the cattle, the screeching of
the birds, the milkmaids shouting to be heard over the clatter of dancing and
leaping feet, I cannot hear myself think, nor can I find the privacy to try.
You have waited too long. There is no need now for you to call on me. If you do
come again, you will not find me here. Trent has proven himself much more
considerate of my needs than you. I’m going away with him today to a more
peaceful life. We’re taking the poor partridge; you and Matilda can have the
rest.
Alicia.
No comments:
Post a Comment