For Raven and her Farm
By craig2
Grounds and pond breathe with deep antique purity. Deer gazelle against the rainbow of blanched fields and sun. Mated steeds silhouette a moon-dyed emptiness as if eternal - evening settles like homemade wine as city slickers tour a dream. Kitchen busy, Raven’s father stones the gathering - then walks to the barn and smiles - he walks to the horizon, caller candle bobbing in spite of its age, smiling in its glow. When he smiles the serenity spreads and blasphemers get stoned on the ecstasy of Raven’s innocence. Written January 4th, 2002 © on Jan 04 2002 02:02 AM PST 0 • 8
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"Grounds and pond breathe..."