This alley stretches long starting from the small, scrub houses past the old man’s semi shack his possessions spilling willy nilly into the grass forsaken…
We are lost in this land down from Farm to Market Road golden sinking slowness behind us approaching Saturday night at the cafe. Catfish, ice…
Sometimes you can hear the echoes of years when the wind whistles like a screech owl on those farm to market roads and highways that…