Change? What Change?

In some old boxes of stuff I haven’t looked at for decades, I find a

small packet of pristine snapshots, six altogether, of a much-younger

me. It surprises me to see how much younger, yet how familiar. In two

of them, I’m picking wild raspberries on a camping trip in BC. Another

has me in a Makiki parking lot surrounded by airborne bubbles, looking

airborne myself. Then I’m Brando sporting a Wild One motorcycle cap.

Then I’m at Ala Moana Beach Park. My favorite has me with a yellow

legal pad, deeply engrossed in emulating my heroes, Hemingway and Lum.

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