A Black Feather, A poison pen... ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- entre cielo y tierra clouds roll in, summer's finally gone away, the vise-grip of opressive heat finally let loose god, how i wish it would rain... clouds teasing us, desert soil - parched, drought-stricken - cries out for it dust, always dust if earth and sky were ever lovers here, as the old signs in the wild might suggest, such passions are sorely missed by whatever lives in the space between them now 10:38 p.m. - 2002-10-22 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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