Cavalcade Raku Encore: Sculpture by Patricia Crane Photo by Mike Davis

Gather now against a setting sun the trooping lights and shadows of my wordless world and summon to the light of vacant leaves the faded shapes my misted drifters bear. I see them saddled on my curved and angled thought and halter racked and ribboned days of sunrise and the flower. To blessed fields of whiteness do they come to shelter in my inner eye the fragile brevity of smile or stare. Inscrutable, their features gaze from crazed and dimming view, their distant voices stoppled by the grit of time. I toil for images and love so that my lonely vagabonds will meter with their shapes the drumbeats of each passing hour. My fingers race with setting sun to rally these pale riders to my fleeting words and to their pastured rest.

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