The moon, our moon lit night
candle brooding sediment
embraces you in umbrage
through the trees down
to the waterline up from
the riverbank wandering
through the shallows
in motion with slow
crawling eddies around
emergent rocks and felled
trees this night a dropped
stitch in time’s throw,
that night we lost
an hour and more.
Moon River
Categories: Poetry
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The Coming of the Toads 