Last Night

November 7, 2017
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Under the stream of moonlight
Flower petals, pink with shy
From the cricket's praise and chime
Owls calling out for mouthless lamps of fire
Perching on the branches, ballerinas at rest
Mouse squeaking with giggles
About the jokes that none can understand but them aside
Bushes ruffled with songs
While their sways angled perfectly fine.
I, the observer, quiet, alive.

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