Sun slowly sinking
Its light growing dim
Then day goes away
And the night rolls in
Air growing cooler
A willow weeping
Nocturnal creatures
Begin their creeping
Dark sky fills with stars
Moon climbs high and
bright
Shines down upon us
With silver-blue light
Cemetery fog
Drifts around headstones
Oozing over graves
Chilling long-dead bones
Bare-limbed trees reach
out
Snagging sleeve or shoe
Slow, timid stepping
The owl asking, “Who?”
Moaning and groaning
The chorus begins
Far off cats screeching
When the night rolls in
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