11.20

Dark walk, evening coming on, the dog

and I step out. Silver half moon and geese

overhead, silhouettes all around. Sounds grow

for us as the dark settles and the pace of silence

crunches gravel beneath each step, faint dog

barks, hootings, the scrabble of a something

in the wood. Each lit window is its own magic

lantern, suspended above the land,

and the horizon glows garnet red before dissembling

into streaks, then shadow glow, and gone. Silver

threads the wood where stream and pond settle

unaware, and as dark deepens the once train line

path narrows into a distance lit by the shadows

we cast in the growing moonlight. Darkness brings

light, as in day.

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