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The Farrier
Blessing himself with his apron,
the leather black and tan of a rain-beaten bay,
he pinches a roll-up to his lips and waits
for the mare to be led from the field to the yard,
the smoke slow-...
Friends' Photos
Friends' Photos
We all looked like goddesses
and gods, glowing and smooth, sheathed
from head to foot by a golden essence
that glistened and refracted its aura
of power - the wonderful...
