Last night was a beautiful night, full of stars and a slender sickle of moon; rising slowly; leaving behind the curve of the earth
Gradually lifting itself from behind the trees and the glow of the earth’s atmosphere.
I like to rest on one of Terry’s farm implements, for a spell. Away from the moon shadows cast by trees, leaves, buildings—there I lean soaking up the silver light of the moon.
On quiet nights my mind fancies the Old Ones walk the land… sometimes I think I can see and feel them, other times there is nothing there; only the wind stirring the leaves of the growing crops.
Oh well…so it is.
From my world to your heart,