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Yellow Bayou - (Barry Sons-Berwick, LA)

In 1957, I was 11 years old. Hurricane Audrey had passed
and the nutrias had taken hold. So Papa took us to Yellow Bayou to kill
the thirty pound rats. Yellow Bayou was the sublime to the ridiculous of that.
Sitting on the hold of the Bond, before the violet cracked the dawn,
facing due east, the sun shot, in thirty breaths……….the violet gone.
Racing on the water a shinning ribbon of gold, the warm light hit my face
and burned into my soul. It was just a sunrise after all, how important could it be?
Well two things happened that day that changed my future for me.
My Papa knew who I was and there are thing called wet dreams.

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