My Maternal Grandmother Porter was the youngest of eight siblings.
Written by Your, Great Niece Carlotta Bogart
FLYING FREE
Just at dusk, in that time
Between the last pink and purple rays
Of the sun and approaching dark
In the space between one reality and another
An eagle rises wild and free.
Souring over the mountains
On gusts of wind from the canyons
Carrying on his motionless wings
The spirit of a woman
Flying away wild and free.
Carlotta Bogart
Written by Your, Great Niece Carlotta Bogart
FLYING FREE
Just at dusk, in that time
Between the last pink and purple rays
Of the sun and approaching dark
In the space between one reality and another
An eagle rises wild and free.
Souring over the mountains
On gusts of wind from the canyons
Carrying on his motionless wings
The spirit of a woman
Flying away wild and free.
Carlotta Bogart
My Maternal Grandmother Porter was the youngest of eight siblings.
Written by Your, Great Niece Carlotta Bogart
FLYING FREE
Just at dusk, in that time
Between the last pink and purple rays
Of the sun and approaching dark
In the space between one reality and another
An eagle rises wild and free.
Souring over the mountains
On gusts of wind from the canyons
Carrying on his motionless wings
The spirit of a woman
Flying away wild and free.
Carlotta Bogart
Written by Your, Great Niece Carlotta Bogart
FLYING FREE
Just at dusk, in that time
Between the last pink and purple rays
Of the sun and approaching dark
In the space between one reality and another
An eagle rises wild and free.
Souring over the mountains
On gusts of wind from the canyons
Carrying on his motionless wings
The spirit of a woman
Flying away wild and free.
Carlotta Bogart
