On this farm, I’ve looked myself in the eye and didn’t like what I saw. I’ve wondered and asked like a child, ‘How long?’ I’ve watched days turn into years. I’ve wanted to bury myself under covers, stay all the live-long day, and dream of by-gone days in Indiana or Kentucky. I’ve shrieked at Rat Snakes climbing pecan trees. I’ve swept thankfulness out the broken, back door. I’ve been a stiff-neck-er, as...
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