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Art
July 2009 
Three Sagebrush Way
Posted on Aug 18th, 2008
by 
Doug
Doug
There were three of them in the wind
Hearing the same music
Of water slipping over stones in the distance
In that rhythm
I can’t quite imagine
It’s just too close
And it doesn’t lend itself
To human fingers
The kind that have been seen
In the darkness
Where there are no streetlights
Not even the streets
For the lights to be strung across
Why do I feel so un-alone here?
With these silver arid hands,
And I only notice the three
Off of the path
Just before they burst into yellow
Bees and butterflies
Wallowing in the final
Sun of summer
Before she descends from her lofty palace
With her cool white skin
Caressing all that was,
In her forgetfulness
Access: Public
(From Guy Gavriel Kay's book, Tigana)
One man sees a riselka: his life forks there.
Two men see a riselka: one of them shall die.
Three men see a riselka: one is blessed, one forks, one shall die….
….first silence……………
….sigh…….
….silence then….
….the wind whispers …a distant song
….that smells of sage and
late summer kisses…..
Hugs, Hugs, Hugs,
Alluvja
Love this one! Of course, I love all of them….
I love it Nicole! Thanks for sharing that!
Ah Alluvja, yes just like that, it feels just like that, thank you and hugging you back.
Hi Lisa and thank you. And you know what? There were no caterpillars on the trail here and just a few rattle snakes, but not many.
Glad to hear there were no caterpillars! Phew!
Beautiful Mr. Doug!