From the Hills to the City
(sometimes life just flows)
The Hills of Black John
It was a cold blistering night. I am all alone,nobody around but the black night hovering over my shoulder.While I lie here on the cold ground wondering why me? This is the third night alone sleeping on this cold ground. It was just a week ago life was perfect. As I lay here in the dark reminiscing of just two weeks ago, what happened momma?
Daddy was home with his loud laughter. “Come here Creolia sit here on papas lap and sing me a pertty song.” Daddy loved to hear me sing. That was our favorite thing to do together. My daddy ran a steel plant here in the mountains of Kentucky. My daddy and my brothers would save leftover vegetables and gather it up in the smoke house as high as the sky. Momma would shake her head and say, “you boys are going to get into trouble one of these days!” The boys would shake their heads back at her!