Our little hills forever near Tell us your secret rare, Through progress of change you never care? Though they plow up your cover of greens and browns, Disturbing your colorful restful mounds? We humans would ...
A white and red semi truck pulls out of a 7-Eleven gas station across the street. As the truck passes me, a large plastic Del Taco cup is flung out the window.
Posted February 27, 2017
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The trails don’t end in Bonita