Apropos of nothing
Except that I was out
And it was floating there
Beyond the elm’s top.
Four days past the equinox
The cool air oozed dew,
I heard no owl hoot,
No bats or moths flew,
The wind had stopped.
The moon’s glow shone
On damp leaves all around,
On tall flower spikes,
Pale paving where I stood,
The bare house wall.
I was alone,
Silent in the silent dark,
And but for the moon,
The vast but distant stars,
Not a spark to light my way.
©2018 John I. Blair, 9/25/2018
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