When all is Quiet
(She dreams of Horses)
With gentle, golden locks
She let the pen strokes 
Flow in quiet tumblings
Over the hills and valleys
Over the disturbances in
Every place: The falling
Leaves and flashing lightning
She, pressed on, never giving
Up or in.  Each drawing was
A mare, stallion racing to
Escape with golden locks
Over the hills, racing with
Flowers and clouds in sunlight
And laternlight, she raced,
Each stroke falling in place,
Scratching into the fibers,
A single tree in the cold
A stationary mare, pausing
For moments, and moving on
Never to reveal her soft heart.
 28 Oct 05
 Dave Barber