Full Moon On Friday Night

Forest one and forest two linked by lines of renegade trees I reach down and pet them They are longer than usual black magic marker is daring me I draw paths between the forests find more too; forest three, four, five, and six would a razor do any good now? I have not shaved my legs since the Pandemic started I am forced to wear black hose the next day to church A keen-eyed child spots my paths under these hose She and I nod to each other. Her arms still have the remnants of yesterday’s magic marker. Child recognizing child. We grin at each other. It must have been a full moon Friday night.