Don't understand a frick'n word they be sing'n! But does move the heart. Like folk songs an such. Opera I keep hidden from others a'know'n'bout. A bit too snooty to 'em, I be guess'n.
Anna be com'n up the hill a'skip'n under a drizzl'n rain with a basket of questions. Don't give her long answers, 'cause I'm always wrong, less'n I be right, and who knows when what is what? Not me.
Never know if'n I'm do'n right or not for Anna. But, she be like Kiva. Both of 'em curious. I never lost be'n curious, but a bit more cautious now. Life lessons I a'reck'n.
Door flys open, Kiva's tail puffs big e'nuff to clean the chimney; sparks jump from the fire and there be Anna...Breathless.
"Where's your bonnet? Ain't a good day to be without," I said.
"Oh, SheShe, it's old-fashion!" She bubbled.
"May'be, but it keeps lice and such off the hair. Keeps sol from burn'n your neck and face. Let you see in all kind'a rain'n wind. Makes a handy tote. Let's your vision catch focus. Told you we is our own camera. Then a'gin, city grit be welcome, is it?" I retorted with a smile.
While Anna put her basket on the table and cuddl'd Kiva, I grub'd up some eats. Fry bread, Colby, olives, mushrooms, sweet onion and sweet gerk'ns. Blueberry juice for sip'n.
Anna keeps written questions in a basket. Names a'people she seeks comment about. Her way of learn'n, I reck'n. Kinda neat, actually. She is of two spirts like me, but hers be very young. Not quite aware of mortality yet. Anna offers her youth to visit my own spirits.
A gift as rare as truth.
Bam. "Minority Leader of the Senate?" Anna proclaimed.
"He leads and speaks like the wind," I said.
"Some people call him, Turtle," she replied.
"His spirit be balled up. Won't poop out. Terrible way for a spirit to die." I said in a whisper.
"Donald Trump," said Anna.
"He's over due for weasel pop'n." I grumbled.
"Be interesting to watch," replied Anna and then said, "Platinum coins to pay off the country's debts?"
"Visionary. Cornerstone for a new economy. This one be go'n General Custer quick. We be dismount'd, outta ammo and await'n the arrows. Ain't no visionaries lead'n that I be see'n." Then I down'd a cherkin.
"What about the President?" Asked Anna.
"A guy afraid to be bold, but sniffs for glory. Knows where he be go'n, keeps everybody else wonder'n where that's be lead'n too. Tad confus'n to those with their heads up."
Anna began to giggle and said, "Guns."
"Only real need is a double barrel, .410 coach gun. That don't save your butt, use it to club the brigand. That don't work, Johnny Law saves ya or not. One of them 50/50 things," I spit.
Root'n 'bout in her basket, Anna gave a snort and said, "Kim Kardashian!"
I mull'd the name over and said, "Don't she work at the truck stop? The one with the hair color they ain't identified yet? She just be hustl'n a livin' and try to do." I muttered, stuff'n a wad of fry bread in my bazoo.
Kiva jump'd up on the table with those eyes that holler, "Blue popsicle!"
T'was gonna be a might interest'n afternoon 'tween the two.