he is raking weeds in the back yard having just whacked them down with mechanical prowess. no rippling muscles or bronzed skin. the sun shines in my eyes reflected off the baldness of his head. the air smells of freshly mowed lawn. our eyes meet there is that familiar smile. oh how I do love that man.
06/27/2004
Aint love grand?...Charlie
hehe, watching love (with love) from the window.