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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