Artwork by Gail BradshawThe Path IV The days of striding manfully through the orchard of life, plucking apples, pears and plums while bellowing heroic verse and quoting Joyce are gone. Little sister, remember me as the boy who rode a wolf to Sunday school, anticipating an encounter with Elijah and the ravens. Who beneath the fragrant cedars sipped catnip tea from a tin can and kissed the sun warm rattlers defending his fort. Who wandered into a cloud of music and never returned.
The Path IV
The Path IV
The Path IV
Artwork by Gail BradshawThe Path IV The days of striding manfully through the orchard of life, plucking apples, pears and plums while bellowing heroic verse and quoting Joyce are gone. Little sister, remember me as the boy who rode a wolf to Sunday school, anticipating an encounter with Elijah and the ravens. Who beneath the fragrant cedars sipped catnip tea from a tin can and kissed the sun warm rattlers defending his fort. Who wandered into a cloud of music and never returned.