seethingblue's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- upon the arrival of my mother in a butter yellow jacket, dampened by the weather of Indiana I feel like it is really winter here; the snow went away with the water they drained from Lake Jackson near the road. This road will take you to Hardees and quite possibly an antique lamp store in Havana where elderly, white women speak with wrinkled fingers, delicately separating the pickles from their turkey on rye. I feel like the snow was once everywhere during that time when mammoths trekked across my backyard, eventually some made it to La Brea where they stayed forever and others let us find their scattered pieces across the earth, only to be displayed back at the downtown museum where you can find postcards of caymen that have never known anything but survival. I question you from below the floor, I ask you why you do not remember the texture of skin, the feel of cold, the winters of your childhood, where maybe we were all snow angels leaving our imprints to be covered by flurries. 19:02 - 19 January, 2003 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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