You can reach the Chicago Railbird at rkenealyatgmail
Horses that pass through inappreciable woodland,/ Leaves in their manes tangled, mist, autumn green,/ Lord, why not give these bright brutes--your good land--/ Turf for their feet always, years for their mien./ See how each peer lifts his head, others follow,/ Mate paired with mate, flanks coming full they crowd,/ Reared in your sun, Lord, escaping each hollow/ Where life-struck we stand, utter their praise aloud.
These pictures are nice. I hope you do more paintings though.
ReplyDeleteThanks for posting these.
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