January 2010
26 posts
Til the Cows Come Home.
(This is the poem posted above my piece at ArtWorks.)
It must be summer, as there is only screen in the window, letting in a soft, gentle breeze. In the far distance, one can hear the mooing of cows.
Ambling. Simpler times. Simpler lives. Moments counted. Remembered. Passionately savored.
Outside the window, a new world. Man sacrificed. At any cost. Spirituality replaced by superstitions....
