Report, if you have a problem with this page“ When I was young I wanted to be just like him.One of the charm, of a bright orange smileand muscular laughter.Bold brown eyes flashing fearlesswhen he sat not alone on cold blue nights in empty boxcars.Riding a freight train'ssolitary wailaway from NebraskaDepression, accompanying dreamswithered farms.Nothing left but the leaves of possibilities. ”
