Something Is Happening Under the Moon
Perpetual haze
surrounds the city
we'll walk until
we reach our goal
The urban scence in winter
fills us with anticipation
the winds chill us
As streetlamps cut
through the night
like a sharp knife through
bread
Passing homes filled with
warmth
and mysterious alleyways
where alleycats prowl
It's not the destination
which is the main thing
It's the struggle to reach it
which counts - weighs heavily
tipping the scales of
winter
in our favor
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