Hell or High Water . . . They’re Growing . . .

Nostalgia can hit you like a brick over the head; unexpected like a snow storm in summer . . .
Where did these babies go? 

No more naked in the corn field . . .
No more baldy cousins at twilight, at least for another sixty to eighty years . . .
These monkeys grew and morphed . . .
Transformed and became the current beings they are now. . .
Sweet as peaches, but babies no longer. 
                            
                                            ~Marica

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