In the distance

the slow murmur of tree frogs

and crickets so close

but unreachable

darkness settles down

so the glare of light from the candle

casts ghostly shadows on the ground

and the silence is overwhelming

broken only by a lonely wolf in the distance

howling at the moon

settled deeply in the stars

that reflect upon a moth’s papery grey wings

as it flutters into the forest

dark with secrets and house of the unknown

and outlined at the top

the black shape of a hawk perched

atop the highest tree

salutes to the night sky

and better yet

the coming day

Marie Walters 2017


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