Tuesday, February 03, 2009

45 x 365 #84

84/365 - DB

Your face, etched with wrinkles. Your hands, scrubbed as soon as you walked in the door, still greasy and black. Your eyes, twinkling as you said, "pass the butter, honey girl." How could you be expected to know all your grandkids' names? I still don't.

1 comment:

  1. Love this. They are all so great, I am dying that they're so short!

    ReplyDelete

 
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