Hippy Yearbook for Thursday, April 7, 2016

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Thursday, April 7, 2016

At the park where by preference, I wait for the bus at that bus stop, a Hispanic man, came along, carrying his umbrella. He walked past me on the sidewalk from where I sat on the edge of the rose bed (The city pruned down the shrub roses in the fall). And then, he turned and I watched him walk back... Sign in to see full entry.

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