"I see there is a piece of art here that I hadn't noticed before," James said. He was sitting in front of the shop drinking a cup of tea as I entered the yard from my morning walk. "It's that mud flap." He nodded toward one of the abandoned trucks in the yard. "Look at the elegant serifs on the word "caution" and the way the rubber has aged and crackled." By that time we were both squatting beside the flat tires, admiring the beautiful mudflap. "I think it should go on a wall in the house," he said.
"I agree," I said.
Nancy, I was reading Nevada poems and ,after about a dozen of them, am dumbstruck that you haven't published them (yet). I envision a hardbound volume, 5X7, 100-150 pages, with your poems and some photographs (black and white?) of Tuscarora and surroundings.
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I can't believe I didn't read this comment. You don't know how much I appreciate it.
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