dusk over the lake
clouds floating
heat lightning
a nightmare behind branches
from the swamp
the odor of the ceder and fern
the long circular
wail of the loon
the plump bird aches for fish
for night to come down
then it becomes so dark
and still
that i shatter the moon with an oar
**and we are finally kissing that dreaded Indian summer goodbye**
xoxo,
Tiffany
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