Clear and cold,
moonlight pours into the hollow
making the forest floor a patchwork of moonbeam and shadow.
Suddenly a raccoon breaks the quiet.
A harsh, high-pitched chatter, for just a moment.
Just as suddenly the silence hushes the chatter.
Above the trees, Orion chases the moon westward.
It reminds me of George Bailey trying to throw his lasso for Mary.
I listen for the Barred Owl,
but am answered only by the silence of the trees
shining in the moonlight.
Moonbeams and the sound of moon-shadow
hush the night.
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