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Jan 2021
the landscape
drew cumulus green;
the full moon shattered,
falling in the dark night,
its pale glow
fringed the head of trees,
fireflies
in the muted sky.
my backyard was outlined
by the frayed edges
of the moon, its ghost like images.
I swept the rooms;
in the woods nearby
moss steadily crept
and consumed my backyard.
mamta madhavan
Written by
mamta madhavan  F
(F)   
703
     Chris Chaffin and Brae
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