The Last Redhead
If he lived in a house with a yard full of kids, a wife who pours tea each afternoon in the shade, was kind to the neighbors who say good…
The Last Redhead
If he lived in a house with a yard full of kids, a wife who pours tea each afternoon in the shade, was kind to the neighbors who say good things — if he spent the days prior on the seat of his pants taking notes on the subject instead, perhaps in his boots in the fields, the sun soaking sweat in the brim of his hat — could a thread pitch encourage a sin’s forgiveness, begin praise of an unselfish act — if his friends were the same in promises kept, were clean cut and shaved every day — then on a warm Sunday evening throwing strikes in the garden, would he be judged a better man than me?
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