EARTH DAUGHTER.

                                                                                  BY

                                                                         HEATHER ROWAN.

       After a three day journey from the mid-west I have arrived. It is dawn. I stand gazing up at the sky watching the Morning Star suspended above, fade. I call to her softly.

     "Goodnight Mother"

                                                                   Goodnight Daughter...

                                                                    I descend into my day castle

                                                                    In the Andes mountain ranges.

                                                                    Stay safe and true to yourself.

                                                                     Now turn to your friend.

                                                                     Awaken him.

                                                                     Your time is nigh.

                                                                     This year you travel further into time.

  On either side of me the deserted city streets seem to stretch into eternity. Behind me, the friendly facade of the apartment building shelters me from a cool rush of air passing over the rooftops above. Tired branches of a gnarled Maple tree trap it. Air lingers and hangs there; watching me.

    "Good morning Air," I say, but it departs using the  branches as a springboard to propel itself on into the morning.