Overalls and plaid shirts, lace up clod stompers and curved pipes dangling from a lip's corner fold, flowing smoke that smells sweet, and a cane in one hand, wrinkled lips pursed ever so slightly, and a level gaze aimed at the distant horizon, as the sun snuggles against the treeline, and frogs and crickets sing a neverending song, twilight settles in for the night, and slowly drifts to sleep.
Listenting to the old men talk.
by John Doe 3 Replies latest jw friends
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Sam Whiskey
That paints a beautiful picture.... Kind of makes feel like I wish I knew the old men/man.
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OUTLAW
Sounds like they`ll all be dead in a week..
................. ...OUTLAW
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John Doe
Kind of makes feel like I wish I knew the old men/man.
You do know them.