Griffri A. F. Harrold

Griffri A. F. HarroldIn the dream I'm travelling very fast and without effort high over the ground as if Im a bird flying. Theres the trackless mass of trees and strips of mountain ridges and the thread of river like sour milk. The sky is dark blue and red like bruises. I swoop down and then up to miss smashing into the crowns of the trees and I see the bruised air and the black horizon. I come to a figure standing on the heather. He stands with his arms flung out, the

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