Sunday morning…

it’s Sunday morning and a wind wails…Mexicans walk down alleys wearing cowboy hats of black and white…fathers holding hands of children dressed up for church…moms talking in Spanish as brown leaves blow into the streets of a Midwestern town…

trees sway in the wind…back and forth…pines and limbs on maples which are bare…gray clouds move in from the North….and it looks like rain…it is noon…church bells ring out…

cars drive by slowly…an old silver van…red pickup truck…some beat up Chevy in need of a muffler goes down side streets…stopping at stop signs…watching the Mexicans coming out of Saint Patrick’s…they have received their blessings for the day…

I sit here and look out my window…watching…waiting for light…where did the sun go…where did it go…

Published by: dmseay

The writing is based on my surroundings and what I've been surrounded by. This language is coarse and politically incorrect; which I make no apologies for. These characters are not nice and to use any other dialogue would be disingenuine. That being said, I choose to roll the dice. dm seay

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