through subterfuge

Beth writes: "Why are there “thousands” of volunteers helping to rebuild south Mississippi but none can be found to help me and my husband put a roof on this place? Yeah, we live in a piece of crap trailer but we still need a roof over our heads! My cabinets are falling to pieces because the rainwater pours in, my floors are rotting because of rain pouring in. We have the wood 2x4 things but can’t find a single soul that will come out here in the Franklin Creek area and help us. My husband has a bad back and I’m not able to help him because I can’t even lift one of those pieces of wood. All we see on the news is all these rich people with volunteers from all over the place help rebuild those big fancy mansions on the beach. What about us little people that really need the help?!"

through subterfuge they took it from us.

we were warm, we were there.

he was the last man.

and just as he suggested, the nightingales couldn’t be trapped or caught. those that did succeed only solidified their own ruin.

today, i cannot hardly speak/write/think of him without tears. what have i become?

but it may just be that time has distorted the details.