Comments about Laz Dixon
A bitter but calm wind stretches its reach among the gentle hills
Catching the long grass that wishes it could leave its past behind and drift along with the cool breeze
The wind glides past the ancient stones, now fallen, scattered and overgrown
they reminisce of times long past where they were once a strong refuge mightier than any howling gust
Nearby, Atop of the hill, the wind passes swiftly over the grave-like stumps and threads its way through the tall, thin trees who are next in line
The iced weary earth rumbles, its slumber distributed
its cold heart ...