Publisher's Synopsis
Excerpt from The Dark Mother: A Novel
All the world moved gently upward toward the moun tain like a Tide. The mountain moved downward toward £31111, spilled water and spread trees in it.
A full-grown boy sat low in a canoe with his hands in the sharp water, and let it drift with the wind. The wind teased: the wavelets stopped marching up the backs of his hands, there was silence. The boy lay back in his craft that ilay in the water, sleepily and tamed by the Wind's absence. His mind drowsed but in its sleep walked forth. The moun tain became a mood of contemplation. A cloud rose over the mountain faster than the moon. There was to be no moon.
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