i step myfeet through a fenceenter a forest alonegeorgia mountainwhat can ring the bell of atreesummer wind whispered wild notions to mesaying i lost ..
heat summer heat, hay bales, working, throwing bales over our heads placing bales in a wagontracktor engine, gas line smellheat everywhere after worki..
you and I friend...there are no others.allthat we imagine to beis loss and finding, tosee leaves and trees is a negation."trees nudge the breeze" "fla..
i would turn over and die lightwould be a memoryi wrote tomy son who was in the armyi wrote my daughtersayingtrees bendwindis windthrown into theair n..
pokadot fly spots flack swatting damned shitall over meunderneath the wing pits, the sweat glistens...door returns with a spat, as i leave the bathroo..