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Cloud Cover

I occasionally reach back to yesterday,                                                                                                                        not because I refuse to move on and forget                                                                                                           about yesterday's unpleasantries, but because                                                                                                history has taught us that we must not forget the                                                                                               past lest we be condemned to repeat it.

Those long days of summer dragged on and on.                                                                                                 But the quiet dark nights would fly by like jet planes.                                                                                                     Roe after long roe had to be hoed on a regular basis.                                                                                           The grasses and weeds were fixtures of stubborn resistance                                                                        and must have stared at us and laughed, realizing that no                   amount of cutting and hoeing would cause them to cease                         and desist. Only God's Grace prevented us from harmful                          
heat strokes.

Longings persisted always, just to leave and not look back.                                                                            Longings to take a peek to see the other side of the track.                                                                           Longings for a none toxic swimming hole to jump in and cool off.                                                                       Longings for rain to pause the hard labor and give us time to play.
Child labor laws didn't apply to us, and no one made a fuss.                                                                            Although no laws were broken by us, one would have thought that,                                              constitutionally, those who employed us were indeed inflicting upon                                                           us children some form of cruel and unusual punishment.

The hot fields of cotton, glowing white acre after acre.                                                                                                     Summer after summer, the sun beamed down upon us,                             
and wiped us as we were simultaneously being steamed                             rolled by the humidity.  Fortunately, that same sun, as if             
overwhelmed with a sense of guilt, often teased us with                  
occasional cloud covers, without which, it is assured that                           
we could not have long endured.

0701021PS

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things