Pale early moonbeams
Espied thru a Kingston window
Shine a yellow effusion that
Mimes fresh snowfall
On the nocturnal rocks
And illumine petite acorns
Dreaming of stately oaks
And cast moving shadows
On close-in tree trunks
To waken them from leafy sleep
An unseen, feathered stage boss
Will soon trill the diurnal cue
To, as ever, hoist the dark curtain
And commence the beginning…
-p. (Leonard N. Shapiro, 11/9/20)
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