MOONSHINE

Thick fog awoke me, I don’t know why,

called me to walk through trees half-seen,

dew-dripping, tripping over storm-snapped boughs,

hidden under autumn’s finished leaves,

no task undone save to rustle, swish and sigh

in time with my own slow-furrowing stride.

And in the fog, extended dark,

my feet through leaves might well have been

the shunting of an ...

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