We wander,
beneath the dotted sky,
  the moon illuminates the forest
   of grandfather trees
    beneath our bare feet;
     soft, dewy grass
      and various dampened, scattered leaves.
      
        The still holds, warming spring moisture
          with a faint reminder of this brutal past winter
            with hungry eyes, streets with old, ashy faces pry
              the fog floods all gutters and highways tonight
                it's like navigating through a black hole
                  you have given forth no light
                     &
                       tell
                          me
                          how
                           ­       am I
                                        supposed
                                                  to see
                                                      without­
                                                                ­ any
                                                             ­          insight?