One Could Do Worse Than Wonder

In Boise, a woman on the walk heaving deep, melodic sobs, an accordion played against the concrete by some heavy hand. I didn’t see her as we passed by talking nonsense, but my brother did, he sensed her deep distress and told me at the corner. As if I had the peace she needed, was worthy of the power to impart it. I did turn back. I didn’t hesitate to …