The starless night stares silent,
Gently the wind dances through brown, crisp leaves,
A small cobble path lies, carefully lit by the full, encapsulating moon,
To the right, an empty field, drenched in dew,
To the left a still pond, glimmering with the white light from the heavens,
In front, skeletal structures of wooden giants frozen in time,
Fox holes border the path, untouched for months as the residents sleep through the cold,
The usual steady flow of traffic halted by the call to rest,
Not a sound is heard,
Everything lay silent, still, peaceful.
Everything but what was running around in his head.