A wide, wildly dashing torrent of far reaching, malleable golden surface that dipswirls laughingly around the motionless rocks and trees, random splash flashing in eddied twists, spraying from bright reaching light in swiftly arching stretches to the bent dark shadows of sudden bowed valleys, in the amber thick slow motion of visual awareness as I look out over the continually swaying wheatfield tresses caught in the crisscross brushing play of the warm summer wind.
Written By Michael Steven Platt 11-16-75, edited and posted 5-19-09
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