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..porch ....January 16, 2008   The winter rains don't treat me like they used to.  They're not so much mean as they are forlorn, like prairies are to some folks.  Them cold rains almost hurt me.  Almost, but not quite. Flowers come Spring?  Hell, they ain't nothing but barkers and con men, hustlers with their shell games.  I used to fall for it, but not anymore.  No, sir. Sometimes my kitchen it gets so hot I got to go outside in July, just to cool off. And then there's Fall.  Fall is mean like a lover. previous..|..current..|..archives..|..1st quarter index..|..next

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