As a child, I played with my mother’s hens, the roaster was not to be played with for it had a duty and it was to sing… Plus it would get a little mean and chase us younglings around flickering its wings. I run bare feet in my flowery dresses… My hair always in fine braids and beads, skin oiled and sun-kissed … I danced and swirled until I got dizzy and fell… I was loved… It was green everywhere I looked our goat didn’t wander off to feed. We had a swing and peace lots and lots of peace.
Published by Muni_Mar
Heloooow and mahadsanid(thank you) for visiting my blog. I'm Munimar(combo of my two names) I'm a mother of two darling boys, a Creative soul, lover of Coffee & Kindness. I speak up on tabooed topics as I am a survivor and it's my mission to inspire and encourage my fellow survivors. Say hi. chao View more posts