Site icon Ruth E. Hendricks

Baby Doll Flies Like a Flag on the Moon

Where a house used to be, unshoveled steps to an empty lot.  An iron pipe for a rail. What’s left of it.  On the way to school I look up and see this bizarre sight.  Pulled over, flashers on, catch of the day, one block from school Thursday morning.  Had to look up the definition of stock-still

Just like the flag planted on the moon, immobile.
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