"far away," said the matriarch,
"i once heard from the tongue of a lark
Of golden days
Of bow and drum
And of men who chased.
Now they come in rags of greed,
No regard for our dignity. "
She began to dream
And the wind did rage
And the forest cried
"run away," she told him then,
"find a place to hide from them."
Far away from behind a tree
Came a sound to defy the peace
And the son went down
Quietly in a pool of reeds
"of bow and drum"
Monday, may 6, 1996