Through the darkness dashed without concern four great
stallions, pulling the dark chariot.
At the reins was Pluto!
Thunder rumbled through the sky, blended with the thunder of
chariot and team. The only light was that from occasional
lightning. It revealed the grim visage of the driver.
On whatever mission Pluto rode this night, plainly it bore
heavy on his mind.
Persephone sat in the garden swing, watched the night sky, the
gentle stars. A storm brewed, but like all storms, skirted her
garden. In the distance she saw the dark clouds, illumined by
the lightning's flash.
And on the far mountain road, momentarily revealed by that
lightning flash, a chariot pulled with madcap speed by four huge
stallions.
She frowned, then laughed away her concern. A nighthawk flew
by, identified by its nasal peent. A soft warm breeze rustled
the leaves of the lilac bush. The sweet fragrance of the lilacs
filled the air.
Persephone swung gently, hummed quietly to herself. Looking up
she saw a shooting star, a brilliant traveler among the stars,
quickly fading.
She laughed happily at its beauty. Then thought more somberly
of what it might portend.
3. Waiting
He waited impatiently. The days were growing shorter, the rains
were more prevalent. Even now, outside the hut, he heard the
drops beating with ever increasing fury. The pelting on the
roof, the whistling of the wind, and the increasing cold all
presaged an early and severe winter.
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