At summer’s end the husks Dry to brown, then black and split open. The wood turns brown and brittle Nuts drop to the ground. Hands and knees harvest them On cool November afternoons. Crack the shells and find Pecan pies.
I am a photographer and a freelance writer. I write stories, poetry, gift books, and magazine articles––both print and online. Photographing children, places, and especially flowers is my hobby.
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