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Dream Gates
Bringing our lost children out of the glass bubble
By
Robert Moss
I am out in the woods in the middle of the night, on Cortes Island. I notice other figures, animal and human and hybrid, moving among the trees, taking form then fading back into the shadows. I find three clear and reliable travel companions. Red-tailed hawk scouts ahead, gray wolf flanks me on the left, bear advances…
Following the red horses to a Death Goddess
By
Robert Moss
Red horses are racing above mountain tops. They are flying over the hills, immense and powerful. Plumes of steam rise from their nostrils. From the steam, men fall to the ground; they appear to be tiny stick figures in proportion to the horses. A huge raven soars above a place where water is swirling, counter-clockwise…
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