I took her out for a walk ........
Did you see her?
When the soft silver Drips shimmering Over the garden nights, Death, the grey mocker, Comes and whispers to you As a beautiful friend Who remembers. Under the summer roses When flagrant crimson Lurks in the dusk Of the wild red leaves, Love, with little hands, Comes and touches you With a thousand memories, And asks you Beautiful, unanswerable questions. —Carl Sandburg |
Love your take on the harvest moon. I was out on Thursday night with my camera, shooting white lights in the sky.
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