Distant hillside,
winter trees:
coral claws
in star-spiked seas.
Shadow-strobing
in between,
shapeless strangers
drift unseen
gliding quickly
changing size,
form a circle
ember-eyed.
Fire-dancing
circle break,
only silence
in its wake.
Night lies empty
cold and still,
just the moonlight,
just the hill.
Loved that last stanza, particularly. But, sometimes, "just" the moonlight upon the hill suffices for utter loveliness and peace.
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