A Poem
I was mourning the lack of stars even on this clear night.
Then something caught my eye below
and I looked down to constellations in the snow.
The Wolf Moon casts shadows from the branches,
connecting the dots of this tapestry of light.
A rabbit scurries across the snow,
braving the same moon’s hungry eye.
And through it all, there is silence.
Not a sound on the sparkling powder.
Not a sound, they say, as they all sing in a perfect harmony.
A symphony.
A lullaby.
A visible breath in the night air.
Ellie Maureen 1/6/23
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