Sunday, January 21, 2007
At the edge
A lone voice drifts through the woods......drum beats in the dark skies...........a black stallion paces restively in the valley below......an old lady among the tribes continues her chants.....the gentle breeze brings with it the smell of the earth....a clutter of leaves dance in a circle.......the mountains paint a picture of stubborn resolve against the backdrop of the night sky......
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