Ballad of the Sun Rising

“The crisp morning air blew through the trees rippling only the dried foliage which remained, and the snow began to fall as they listened to the footsteps of a stallion in the distance as it strained to pull the carriage of thoughts down the path destroyed by years, and as they stood upon the hill sensing the cool dew seep between the toes of their bare feet, they felt fear, they felt loathing, and they saw the sun rising.”

~ S. Grant Funerway

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

Making sure the wine is void of seeds and other unwanted particles.

Ballad of the Sun Rising

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

0 Comments:

Wit and Guile Lacking Within

Previous Posts