Extemporaneous musings, occasionally poetic, about life in its richly varied dimensions, especially as relates to history, theology, law, literature, science, by one who is an attorney, ordained minister, historian, writer, and African American.
Wednesday, May 17, 2017
OUR COTTON, OUR LAND
AS A SMALL CHILD, I RECALL BEING PLACED ATOP A COTTON-BALE-FILLED WAGON ON OUR GRANDPARENTS' MISSISSIPPI FARM, ALONG WITH MY COUSIN-PLAYMATE, HOWARD, THE HEIGHT WAS VERTIGINOUS AND THE SMELL WAS EARTHY. OUR COTTON GREW ON OUR LAND.
AS A SMALL CHILD, I RECALL BEING PLACED ATOP A COTTON-BALE-FILLED WAGON ON OUR GRANDPARENTS' MISSISSIPPI FARM, ALONG WITH MY COUSIN-PLAYMATE, HOWARD, THE HEIGHT WAS VERTIGINOUS AND THE SMELL WAS EARTHY. OUR COTTON GREW ON OUR LAND.