Pig Waller Holler had been overrun by wild hogs ”since Kingdom Come,”on the word of one field bum who knew well the scent and the scene there from when and where he were welped. It helped some that Lefty McCrumb made hunting them one by one a game for guests to play. On this great day, he’d gotten his way as the last of the giant pigs lay splayed on the hill ’crost his porch.
“Look, look!“ Lefty yelled for the town to pull its steeple bell that folk show to run and view the reckoning to get a taste of the roasting to be by the river of song through their valley resounding. Under a beaming, steaming sun settling toward the mountain Lefty heated his kettle drum spun from a pole strung over the evening fire molten from those sky sparks loosed like lightning into the trampled ground, sparkling and crackling in chill air ‘round his home there.The pig groaned his last snorting grunt before the skewer awaiting him.
Grasses rejoiced to be free of their razing. Flowerheads sprung into the night to beat the day for playing, commenced the stardance they‘d been planning. Children gleamed in moon beams where infants dreamed of feathered daisies and polka-dot dahlias, petunias pensively waiting their calling, their turn on the stage of space and place, the doll and dawn dimension.
For a Sound & Light treat/feast start continguous mini-videos consecutively.
For a Sound & Light treat/feast start continguous mini-videos consecutively.
Pig Waller Holler had been overrun by wild hogs ”since Kingdom Come,”on the word of one field bum who knew well the scent and the scene there from when and where he were welped. It helped some that Lefty McCrumb made hunting them one by one a game for guests to play. On this great day, he’d gotten his way as the last of the giant pigs lay splayed on the hill ’crost his porch.
“Look, look!“ Lefty yelled for the town to pull its steeple bell that folk show to run and view the reckoning to get a taste of the roasting to be by the river of song through their valley resounding. Under a beaming, steaming sun settling toward the mountain Lefty heated his kettle drum spun from a pole strung over the evening fire molten from those sky sparks loosed like lightning into the trampled ground, sparkling and crackling in chill air ‘round his home there.The pig groaned his last snorting grunt before the skewer awaiting him.
