The Black of a Night

At least it stopped raining and we could start fires in the outside fields, walk the two dogs and hear cracks in the black woods, they stop and growl at the ghosts, but gone with the smoke into a clear night sky the heavy moon mid song about all the love in the world, wind away and down the glen down. It’s the Black of the night that hides all these men’s secrets and all the girls desires. They roll under their slumber sleeps not a whimper not a single peep. Breath dogs breath.


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