ralph sent the lightning pic from tucson - i bet the ponies were scared // sean munro passed along the frank standford poem below

Dreamt By a Man In a Field

I am thinking of the dead
Who are still with us.
They are not like us, they are
Young and beautiful,
On their way in the rain
To meet their lovers.
On their way with their dark umbrellas,
Always laughing, so quick,
Like limbs flying back
In a boat before night,
So constant,
Like the glass floats
The fisherman use in Japan.
But for them there is no moon,
For us the same news
We do not receive.

-Frank Stanford, orig published in Barataria, 1977