Does illness have a voice,and if so; is it melancholy,or dark and dank, divulgingdeepest despair, or revealinga vileness of nature? Discord creeps along my veins,disrupts muscles, systems failingunder the oppression –“Stay strong,” friends counsel,cannot hear the gathering storm,feel the heaviness cloaking me. I am not myself, but then;who am I? Is disease a mutationof the […]
Discharge the gun –protection a vesselthrough which our depthsare undefined…adrift Fear is a burrowerwears a false crownbirths losstrusts danger Hearts beg,amid this trigger-readinessfor a guardian – unafraidto court this meaningless Futility unchecked –to study productive optionsunimaginable in the current state of chaos on repeat. (Art my own)
These bones, they saywill finish me – too brittleto withstand the race But I am Willowrecollection wispymy dance defiant Porous as a sea spongesoaking up each daymettle despite the rattle (Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
One Woman's Quest II 
The difference between the horse drawn wagon and the new machines is that the wagon would distill back into nature but the machines take generations to do that. Passed plenty of these big toys on the road trip, lots of dollars in the fields. Nice tones in your shots.
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Thanks Paul. I once coached a boys’ soccer team, maybe up of rural boys. When the city boys would taunt them and call them farmers, they’d retort: “Yeah, well our tractor costs more than your house”!
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So true here too, much money in those toys.
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VJ, these look like photos I would have taken. Wonderful entry 😀
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Well, you do teach me, Cee. Thanks.
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Is the horse and buggy a wood carving?
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It is.
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It took me a minute to see the big tires in the grass!
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Yes, they are well hidden.
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