another ugly darkness walks shimmering down our homes,
it paid no heed to pleading pleasures of night snores.
all beyond this cold streaming air,
lies symphonious orchestra of crickets and frogs.
a blooming twilight marched by a cock’s cackle.
one mast about 13 miles walks beaming:
red spotlight gleams out of the the tower.
the moon has an aging smile;
silence sets its feet out of the door,
but I guess this ugly twilight has been quite beautiful.
The Village Thinker
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