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Driving on a country road "Love would be safe in his own storm… Do you suppose that storm can ever touch the Fool?" Charles Williams, The Greater Trumps, pp. 127, 139 I find the turkeys again, on a narrow lane through the pasture-- and they are there, meandering-- there is no other word-- across the road, up over the snow bank. I slow down. They stop and stretch long necks up to have a look at me, and I at them. The males have a strange beard tufting out mid-chest like a shock of unruly hair gone awry, growing out a hole in an old sweater-- red wattles jangle from their chins as if a loosely tied party hat had slipped around the face-- I am mesmerized at the majesty and the comedy-- like Williams' Greater Trumps-- the Fool divine. 8 Mar 03 © Copyright 2003, E. Granger-Happ, All Rights Reserved. Contents - Lent, 2003 |
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Document last modified on: 03/20/2004