From time to time I will be posting postcards of pros.  Thoughts, words, memories, myths and truths I try to put on paper, which I learned from a good friend.

This place spins as the old one did.

Snakes, farms, and rickety fences point my way.

But old problems still the same.

My hands cut up after the days work.

Car battery dead, flat tires persist, floodwaters rage.

All has changed but dreams remain unchanged.

Can a young man flip to the end of the pages to see if he will make it?

Trapped by Father Time, I can only travel at the speed of the seasons.