JournalCharles: The white snow is very beautiful. I love it even when my fingers hurt from shooting pics up in the park of two teenage girls snowboarding and a family and their dog gathered on a snow-covered bridgeand the snowflakes kept coming down...harder...almost blinding and smacking me in the face. Ammie came over. I never seen her look more beautiful than today in a new leopard hat, matching gloves and scarf, and her pretty brown skin was luminous, without makeup and youthful. I kissed her because...she was so beautiful. So slender like gazelle...so wonderful to behold as my Mother...We almost finished moving everything, but then the snow came and wanted her to get back to Johnsonville, along ride away from Florence. I thought of riding with her there...but she insisted she would be OK...and that was that. I forgot to call SKA back who wanted to talk to Amime..whom he also calls mom. I have idea what they discuss... His mom, too, her fourth son, 7341 miles apart. Meanwhile, snow continues to fall in the night and all the streets and cars are covered white...
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AuthorCHARLES PEARSON Archives
April 2022
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