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JenniferMaxwell
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since 2006-09-14
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0 posted 2010-04-14 11:30 AM


Its blood seeped through the expansion grate and soaked into the rolling green hills along the concrete highway. The sky reflected one filmed eye, carrion birds circled and wheeled. Bottle flies, beetles and ants dined alfresco on its splayed flesh.  Marker number 15 and 25 miles before in truck stop sleep to dream him into life. A dancing stag Iroquois brother rolling thunder across the mountain range. Narcissus at a reflecting pool lapping cool spring water fern green beneath ancient pin oak and tulip tree. His breath the wind that quakes the aspen, his heart the river that runs freely through glade and wood before concrete, tarmac and the killing wheel.


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banished_fairy
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since 2006-10-02
Posts 31
Happy in H*ll, PA
1 posted 2010-04-16 05:39 PM


Odd to see this through the deer's eyes.
JenniferMaxwell
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2 posted 2010-04-16 06:17 PM


Thanks for your comment banished fairy. Here's something I found a bit odd, too.
Post #12 in this thread: /main/forumdisplay.cgi?action=displayarchive&number=96&topic=000792

Ringo
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Saluting with misty eyes
3 posted 2010-04-17 12:37 PM


Jennifer- Before she got her own computer, Banished Fairy (who, at the time lived across the street and 2 doors down) was using mine. I neglected to log out, and she didn't think about it, either.

I hope that explains it.

Life's journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting, "WHAT A RIDE

JenniferMaxwell
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4 posted 2010-04-17 01:05 AM


I was afraid it might be something like that.
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