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Wednesday, August 03, 2005

Reflections on a Summer Eventide

The red sun slid below the tree line. The horses quietly grazed.

I drove home - windows, moon roof wide-open, tree frogs, insects a cacophonous symphony.

Past the farmer’s fallow field flickering with fireflies, a lone silhouette of a deer warily watched.

Iraq war? My shame red as the sun.

Rosalind 10:55 AM

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