the stillness

of the misty nightwood


quarter moon smudge

on the red velvet sky


no sound

but the hiss of blood


through the ears


and it is easy to see

how time breaks and fades


on eternity

until we come back to ourselves


then the misty wood

is just chill and moist


and the moon disappears

behind clouds


and a peacock cries out as if in pain

and again each of us is alone....







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