vol-raven-ink By guest author Vol Lindsey 4/10/20 The pastures burn a brilliant green and stretch themselves out from the ragged fence, and over a sultry curve of hill. In the naked forest, tender fingers of wind draw a light caress along the branches of red cedars, eager for heat, when stamen spews pistil with pollen so birds can sing and bees dance. Purple redbud and early dogwood do Gypsy Rose Lee behind their feathery fans in a tense foreplay. You can feel the shudders as arctic air lies supine with the moist flow of warmth from down south. Cumulo twines with nimbus to become one until it is too much to bear... Clouds burst! Tornados spin! Foundations shake! The whole Earth clenches and lies still, awash with fertile rain.

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