Canzone Delle Preposizioni
I packed up the books: Under Milk Wood, Of Mice and Men, Under the Window, Under the Volcano, Up from Slavery, The Thunder- ing Herd, Under the Greenwood Tree, The Over- Coat, The Changing Light at Sandover, Under- world, Out of Africa, Paris Trout; and I went over to the Under- woods' house over on River Road. Over- head the blackness of clouds out- paced a fleeing sun. Out and up the clouds rolled, roiled up, wrung out in horrendous rain over and over. I had agreed over coffee one day to farm out lots of books people were giving over to the library book sale over at the high school. Under the agreement, volunteers took books over to the Underwoods' over spring break. I was up for this, and signed up. Over I drove, up the Cross Road, and turned up River Road. I walked up the Underwoods' driveway and over the lawn. The voice of Dawn Up- shaw drifted up from a CD player, and out on the screen porch was John Up- dike's new book of essays, next to the Up- anishads. Under the lilacs, under the clematis, climbing up trellises of lath, of ironwork, of wicker, blossoms hardly held up their heads. Of course, of course; but the storm that had crushed them was over. Pools of water, of mud were all around. The Underwoods' cookout was a washout, but the sun of a glowing afternoon under- cut the thunder. The Under- woods took all the discarded books out of the trunk of my car, and then dove them (with lots of other books) over to the high school, where these books were put up for sale for the benefit of the Westport Free Public Library, a generous act which the Underwoods should be proud of.
From Quaker Guns. Copyright © 2008 by Caroline Knox. Used with Permission of Wave Books.