In a message dated 3/31/02 1:28:21 AM, [log in to unmask] writes:
<< The Clearing
Loosened stones pattered like rain on leaves, [do you need on leaves?]
chased before me down the gully [kind of awkward for me]
and out into the pinning heat of noon. [like pinning heat]
Meadow of knee-deep grass unfurled, [maybe place unfurled before under?]
swathed with yellow flowers,
under the brassy sky.
Cicadas chirred in the heat, [like the sound of cicadas chirred]
roused to protest my intrusion.
Not flowers! My trespass
threw a jubilation of butterflies
into the startled air. [I can really seal this - great visual]
A golden storm that billowed over the meadow [do you need over the meadow?]
then settled back to bloom and fool again. [like the assonance here]
I have left the meadow and their gilt careen
long ways behind yet they have lit [kind of awkward to speak]
my hot and dusty roads for miles.
>>
I love the journey the reader is taken on.
kol tuv, Ryfkah
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