Moonfrost
There's a place
in butterfly dusk
where moonfrost drifts in sepia crystals,
where nightbirds' wings fold
so that even flight
cannot beat its way out
of the stillness of giants.
It's the place
where you stand
in the twilight of trees, where the heart
still stalks the thing
that thinks shadows hide it
but shows in the dark,
bright as a moon that
glows like a cygnet
asleep on a midnight lake.
~March 2018
posted for Kerry's FLASH
at real toads
Some mood music...
Image:Crepuscule, 1897, by Heinrich Kuhn
