Of Monsters and Men, Little Talks
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Theoretically, I write a blog post here when I have something to share. But it seems that I have been sharing less and less, here. And it is a little more than seems as it appears. As if the buffaloes had gone.
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As Sandburg tells it, so I have also noted of the traffic.
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Those who saw the buffaloes are gone.
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Those clouds of dust that used to be raised, the thunder upon the plains – sometimes I wondered if it was the buffaloes. Or those who saw the buffaloes. But let me not make Sandburg’s poem serve as a cheap metaphor for the better days of a C-list blogger, the poem deserves better.
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If you didn’t know, I’ve been writing a novel and working on art work for it. I’ve also been helping Yomar Lopez lay the foundations for his empire at Geeky Antics.
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Here’s an illustration of Anca, a character from my vision. It was made by the talented fashion illustrator, Ros Webb.
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I am tempted to suggest that the buffaloes are not gone. That hooves shall thunder again and more loudly than before. That clouds shall rise higher and that hearts will tremble at their return.
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Can you hear the rumble in the far off distance?
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Buffalo Dusk
by Carl Sandburg
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The buffaloes are gone.
And those who saw the buffaloes are gone.
Those who saw the buffaloes by thousands and how they pawed the prairie sod into dust with their hoofs, their great heads down pawing on in a great pageant of dusk,
Those who saw the buffaloes are gone.
And the buffaloes are gone.
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Stan Faryna
28 July 2014
Fairfax, Virginia
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Some are gone, but not all. The bigger question is what prevents those who visit to maintain silence and not speak.
I wonder.